


The light in his eyes

by AuthorReinvented



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Arthur and Francis have separated, Depression, Family, FrUK, Human Names Used, M/M, btt, god so much angst, mathew tries to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 20,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorReinvented/pseuds/AuthorReinvented
Summary: The light is slowly fading from Francis's eyes.Mathew cant seem to bring it back on his own.He slowly realizes that if he wants to rescue Francis from his depression, he's going to need the whole family.**mentions of depression and other possibly triggering issues.
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alfred = America   
> Arthur =Britain/England /UK  
> Francis =France  
> Mathew=Canada  
> Lucille=Monaco  
> Michelle=Seychelles   
> Antonio=Spain  
> Gilbert=Prussia

Mathew can't remember the last time he saw Francis smile for real. Francis does still smile of course, but Mathew knows the difference between a faked smile and a genuine one. He hasnt seen the genuine one in a while. There's a darkness in Francis' eyes that wasnt there before, one that seems to be eating up the light that used to shine. Mathew tries his hardest to chase it away, but it doesn't seem to change.

He makes Francis his favorite meal. Francis puts on his polite smile and thanks him. He doesnt even eat half of it before he declares he's full and excuses himself. Mathew tries to engage Francis in some of his favourite activities, such as looking at art or gardening. Francis wears his polite smile and declines. He says he's too tired. Mathew reminisces with Francis about times of old, the fun things they did, funny moments that happened. Francis' polite smile twists just a bit. He doesn't laugh.

Matuew tries everything. The light in Fancis' eyes keep getting dimmer. Mathew tries his last resort, and hauls Francis up to Paris, his home town, taking him to all the familiar places Francis used to love. Francis only looks tired. He wants to sleep more and more these days, and now, even the polite forced smile is slipping. When Francis excuses himself to rest instead of visit the River Seine, his eyes look duller than ever, and Mathew realizes with a sinking heart that he cant fix this. He's not enough to chase away the darkness.

He wants to cry, but he wont. He cant. Because if Francis somehow sees or hears, it will add on more wieght to the already bowed shoulders. Mathew cant be the one to crush Francis. He wishes he could be the one to save him, but now its all too clear that Mathew isnt the one. He has no choice. He calls for reinforcements.

When his half-sisters arrive, Mathew is approaching despair, and they must notice it as soon as they see his face. The younger, Michelle, grabs his pale hand in her tanned one and pulls him close. She doesnt say a word, but her arms wrap silently around Mathew, and he sinks into the grip. Lucille, the older of his younger sisters, stays frozen, as though she doesn't know what to do. Finally, she speaks, and the moment is broken, Mathew pulls away from Michelle and her arms fall down to her side. There are no tear stains. Mathew will not cry.

"Mathieu, what's wrong?" Lucille's voice is full of gentle pleading and concern. Michelle shifts anxiously from foot to foot. Mathew communicates the problem with just one word, desparation obvious in his tone.

"Papa."

They don't understand until Francis awakes from his nap and cames down tiredly for a light supper, one he only picks at and doesnt eat. His sisters hold back gasps. Francis looks nothing like the one from their memories, playfull and energetic, eyes alight and alive. This Francis is someone else, someone tired and drained, his every move lethargic, and the light almost all gone from his eyes. He looks like he's fading, and its terrifying. The sisters finally understand Mathew's despair. 

Michelle is the first to move, replicating the actions of her younger self as she rushes forward and wraps her arms around his waist, fiercly hugging him. Francis looks surprised, the first genuine emotion other than exhaustion and indifference that Mathew has seen. Lucille is more reserved, and offers him a more gentle hug once Michelle releases her grip. Both of them pretend they dont notice how much thinner Francis has gotten.

From here, Mathew steps back. He's already tried his best. Francis had only gotten worse. Under Lucilles gentle care and Michelle's energetic care, Francis seems to at least stop growing worse for a bit. The polite smile is back on his face, although Mathew cant tell if its good or not. Francis has started eating more under Lucille's watchful gaze and gentle chidings, he spends less time sleeping and more time gently chatting with Michelle and Lucille. But Francis still hasnt smiled a real smile, and even Michelle is running out of energy, growing sober and quiet, and shooting Mathew a look to ask for help whenever she thinks she cant go on.

Mathew realizes even this is not enough. He plays with his cellphone and considers calling someone he knows is always abounding in endless energy, but decides against it. On the best of days he knows Alfred is exhausting, and for Francis, who is already weary all the time, it might be to much. His brother also tends to speak without thinking, and Mathew can't risk a wrong word that will make Francis fade even more. There's one more, another person that Mathew can call, but he's not sure if he'll pick up. Even if he does, will he come? Mathew doesn't know what he'll do if he refuses.

It isnt until later that evening, after Francis has retired, when he catches Michelle crying into Lucille's shoulder that he makes up his mind. He makes a phone call. No one picks up. Of course. Mathew tries not to scoff. He knows that Arthur never picks up unknown calls, and Mathew's number isnt saved in his phone. He drops his shaking hands to his side, fists clenched in frustration. Now what does he do? Lucille calls to him from the doorway where he hadnt realized she was standing.

"Mathieu?"

He turns to look at her, and she looks so small to him, so much more than he remebered, her face betraying an unease he'd never seen before. Mathew makes up his mind.

"I have to go somewhere. I wont be long."

Lucille understands the unasked question, and she nods.

"I'll stay here."

Mathew manages a tired smile, but a genuine one. He knows his sisters don't want a fake smile right now. He doesnt say anything else, though, only purchases a plane ticket and calls a taxi.

The flight seems longer than it is, but Mathew doesnt doze off. His mind is too busy. By the time the plane lands he's stressed himself out, and suddenly feels extremely tired. But Mathew doesnt have time to rest. He directs the taxi to the familiar address, and when he arrives, it seems like nothing has changed, the old house is still surrounded by lucious gardens, and there are vines clinging to the the walls. The thing that has changed the least, though, is the face that greets him when he knocks on the door.

"Dad." 

Mathew greets, and Arthur's bushy eyebrows draw together. Arthur looks like he has many things he wants to say, but something in Mathew's tired tone and wan face stops him. He opens the door further and steps aside. 

"Come on in."


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

There's a pair of bright blue sneakers at the door, cookie crumbs on the table, and a hoodie thrown carelessly over the back of the chair. Mathew knows this can only meen one thing. His half-brother Alfred is visiting. Almost immediately Mathew feels like he's intruding, and a part of him is already thinking if excuses to leave. He doesn't get the chance to retreat. He's barely in the house before he's accosted by arms around his neck, and Alfred throws himself at Mathew.

"Mattie!"

"Hey Al."

Mathew's voice comes out more tired than he expects and Alfred withdraws his arms with an unusually sharp expression and searches Mathew's face. Mathew doesn't know what Alfred reads there, but Alfred quickly finds a reason to leave him and Arthur alone, and Mathew's gratefull for the rare show of sensitivity. Alfred's action only make Arthur's forehead crease more.

Arthur leads Mathew to the sitting room and pours him a cup of tea, but waits for Mathew to speak first. Mathew struggles to find the words. He's not sure how to explain the situation, the way Francis seems to be fading, his eyes growing darker day by day, the hoplessness that he and his siblings feel when they try to bring the light back into his eyes. How can he convince Arthur to go see Francis when they've been separated for so long? Will Arthur even agree? He fiddles with the teacup he's been passed, but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. Arthur's frown deepens.

He hears a clatter of dishes from the kitchen, Alfred's way of telling him he's not listening in, and Mathew reminds himself of his sisters' faces. This time he makes the words come out.

"Dad, wont you come visit Papa?" 

Its a plea, a cry for help, but almost instantly Mathew knows its a lost cause. Arthur's face turns to stone.

"He's not doing well." 

Mathew tries to explain, but he already knows he's not getting through to Arthur. Arthur is polite, and tries to sound understanding, but his answer remains firm. He will not go. The visit isnt even half an hour, and even though Arthur doesnt kick him out once they're done talking, Mathew knows he's not welcome anymore. Alfred sees him out, and there's a frown on his face, but he doesnt try to stop Mathew from leaving. Mathew doesnt really care anymore. His last hope just fell through. Mathew doesnt have any cards left to play.

His phone chimes in the taxi on the way back to the airport. Its Lucille.

"Will you be back soon?"

Francis must have gotten worse. Mathew fiddles with the phone, but doesnt respond. What can he say to his sisters? How can he tell them there's no help coming, that they're the only ones? He turns the phone off. The flight back seems too short, and Mathew stares blankly out the window the whole time. He wants to cry, but he wont let himself. It feels too much like giving up. It isn't untl he's in the taxi on the way back that he turns his phone back on. His phone immediately chimes mutiple times to annouce texts, and he sees he has texts not only from Lucille, but Alfred and Michelle as well. He hesitates, then taps on Alfred's first.

'Hey Mattie. What's wrong with Francis? I heard from Dad.'

Francis. Even though Alfred doesn't call him "Papa" like Mathew, he knows Alfred still thinks of him as his family. Mathew realizes he should tell Alfred what's going on, but how could he explain it?

'Is there anything I can do to help?'

Mathew isn't sure there's anything anyone can do to help, but he's still gratefull for Alfred's offer. The last text sends his heart fluttering with a faint hope.

'I'll talk to Dad.'

If anyone can get through to Arthur, Mathew knows it would be Alfred. Its no secret within the family that Alfred was Arthur's favorite, though Arthur always denied it. Mathew tries to squash the hope before it grows too big. Better to expect the worse than be disappointed. He only responds to the last thing Alfred said, a single word.

'Thanks.' 

He opens Lucille's text next with a heavy heart, wishing he could give her better news. The text is short and terrifying, and Mathew feels like there's something heavy on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

'Come back quick.' 

His mind rushes through reasons she needs him home faster, eache worse than the last, and Mathew tries to shut them out as he responds to her text that he's on the way. Mathew is almost too scared to open Michelle's text, to get anymore bad news. He isnt sure he can keep himself together if he finds Francis has gotten worse. Alreasy his mind is painting pictures of a dangerous situation, and the pale, cold form of his father. He tries to chase the picture away, and steels himself as he taps on the text to open it.

This text too, is short, but only the few words have Mathew's heart soaring with hope, a direct contrast to the heaviness only moments before.

'I think I saw Papa smile.'

Its almost too much to hope for, its not even a confident statement, but its enough to give Mathew strength. Because he knows that Michelle doesnt mean the forced polite smile, but a genuine smile from the heart. Suddenly the taxi doesn't seem to be moving fast enough, and Mathew just wants to jump out and run, and see the smile Michelle may have seen.

When the taxi pulls up Mathew almost forgets to pay, remembering the tip at the last moment, barely even noting the amount he presses into the driver's hand. He's barely in the door when he freezes, hearing a loud and raucous laughter that doesn't belong to anyone in his family. He's met at the door by Michelle, and her eyes are shinning as she confides.

"Papa's friends came to visit." 

It doesn't make sense how they even know where he was, or how they got there so fast, but Mathew knows his eyes aren't lying to him when he seens the trio on the couch. There's a familar albino laying with his head on Francis' knee, and a familar brunette sitting on the coffee table, clearly in the middle of telling a atory, eyes alight with mischief. But the one Mathew focuses on isnt either of them. Its Francis. Francis isnt laughing, or even smiling, but he looks much more alive than he has the past few days, and Mathew thinks he can see a spark lighting back up in Francis' dimmed eyes.

Mathew doesn't even care if there's an empty wine bottle on the floor, or Antonio's rear on the table. For the first time in a long time, Mathew thinks that maybe Francis will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alfred = America   
> Arthur =Britain/England /UK  
> Francis =France  
> Mathew=Canada  
> Lucille=Monaco  
> Michelle=Seychelles   
> Antonio=Spain  
> Gilbert=Prussia


	3. Chapter 3

It doesnt take Mathew long to figure out the mischevous and playful personality that Gilbert and Antonio are displaying is nothing but an act. He doesnt miss the casual way that Antonio seems to glance over at Framce to test his reactions every so often, or how Gilbert seems to be touching Francis in some way at all times; a shoulder leaning against him, putting his legs across Francis's lap, braiding Francis' shoulder-length hair. Lucille and Michelle think its sweet, just sign of their deep friendship, but Mathew knows its more than that, a series of carefully orchestrated movements and acts meant to calm and comfort. 

Still, there's something else there, a line of caution, and Mathew knows its his fault. There's things the trio want to say to eachother that cant be said with everyone there. So Mathew makes a choice to remove the obstacles, calling and booking a dinner reservation for him and his siblings, casually mentioning to the guests that they'll be out all night. Gilbert and Antonio catch on immediately and wink conspiratorially over Francis' shoulder. If Francis notices, he doesnt say.

Mathew doesn't mean to eavesdrop. He means be in the taxi with his sisters on the way to the restaurant , but he forgets his wallet. He's always had very low presence, sneaking back to grab his wallet and slipping out again is easy. He's almost back out the door when he hears Francis speak, and partially instinctively, peers around the corner to see him.

"Je suis exhausté."

Francis murmurs into Antonio's shoulder, reverting back to his native French before repeating it in English.

"Im tired."

He says, and he sounds it, an exhaustion so deep that even makes Mathew feel tired just from hearing the weariness seeping from his tone, the way his body sags and eyes seem to dim and darken only further attesting to the deep exaustion he's admiting too. Gilbert reaches a hand out to rub Francis' head as though he's a child.

"Then rest." 

The words sound ridiculously simple, his harsh german accent cutting the words short, but unmistakably gentle. Mathew knows that he doesnt mean the kind of "rest" sleep brings, but a different kind. Antonio also speaks, in his usual peppy voice, but it still seems to sound solid and trustworthy. 

"Lean on us if you need to, amigo. That's what we're here for."

His spanish accent brings the word up with lilting sound, making the words seem carefree and light despite the heavy wieght of the words. Mathew doesnt want to listen in, and silently slips out the door, closing it soundlessly behind him. Dinner is fun, his siblings seeming to relax for the first time since they came to Paris, and Mathew finds himself joking and laughing with them as they eat. Its so fun and light-hearted that he almost forgets why they're all gathered together. By the time they return, they're all exhausted from the night out, and perhaps slightly intoxicated too. None of them had counted their drinks. 

Mathew instantly feels himself sober up when he sees Gilbert waiting up for him. He knows this can't mean anything good, and his heart starts to sink again. He doesn't want to worry his sisters, smiling brightly and giggling for the first time in a while, and waves them up to bed. Its only after they've disappeared with hushed giggles that he finally turns to Gilbert.

"Antonio's with Francis." 

He explains as though answering an unasked question. Mathew feels like he's choking on something, his throat swelling up and making it hard to breath. He can read the true meaning underneath Gilbert's words. Antonio's watching Francis. It sounds to Mathew like they're afraid that Francis might hurt himself. He tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. Mathew doesnt ask about that. He doesnt want to know, hes scared of what the answer might be. Instead he asks a different question.

"How did you know to come?"

Mathew knows Gilbert realizes he's avoiding the issue by the quirk on Gilbert's lips, but Gilbert doesnt call him out.

"Got a call from a certain American, he seemed a little concerned." 

"Alfred." 

Mathew's lips curled up just a little as he realized what Alfred had done, then curled back down as he guiltily remembered that he hadn't really responded to any of Alfred's questions. Gilbert doesnt let Mathew have his pity party. He asks the next question bluntly, almost accusingly, and Mathew flinches. 

"How long has he been like this?"

Mathew cant remember when he first started noticing the faded light in Francis' eyes, but he does remember how fast it seemd to die. He doesnt meet Gilbert's face as he asnwers.

"A while."

Its enough to tell Gilbert what he wanted to know, and Gibert clicks his tongue in frustration.

"And you just left him like that? Why didn't you call us? We could have helped!" 

Once again, Mathew flinches at the words and the boiling frustration underneath. He knows that Gilbert's right, he knows he should have called them earlier, he's not sure why he didn't. No, that's a lie he's telling himself. He knows the real reason he waited so long to call anyone. Its because Mathew wanted to be the one to make Francis' eyes light back up, Mathew wanted to draw out his charming smile. Still, Mathew thinks its unfair of Gilbert to say he'd left Francis like that. He'd done his best to cheer him up, the bring back the spark in his eyes. Even if his reasons were selfish, Mathew really had tried his best.

Mathew keeps his voice low and quiet as he responds to hide the tremble in his voice.

"I'm sorry."

He doesn't try to make an excuse or defend himself, because he knows Gilbert's right. If he had asked for help earlier this never would've got this bad. Mathew's eyes feel hot and his cheeks flush, but he pushes away the the shame and tears of frustration. He doesn't have the right to be upset. Gilbert seems to read him like a book, and his voice softens. Mathew wonders if Gilbert is thinking of his own younger brother who is around Mathew's age as he speaks.

"Hey, its not your fault." 

Mathew barely holds back a snort at that. He's neither an idiot or a child, hes not someone who cant own up to the consequences of his actions. Still, Mathew doesnt want to come off as rude towards Gilbert, so he only nods stiffly. Gilbert sighs.

" You're still a chil - ah, no, I mean, you're not alone. If something happens its fine to rely on us older people."

Mathew decides to ignore the fact that Gilbert almost called him a child. He's too frustrated and upset at himself to be offended. He just nods stiffly again. Gilbeet sighs once more and looks like he wants to say something more, but his phone dings with a text alert. 

"It's Tony." 

He apologizes wryly, checking the text. Then his face goes pale.

"Shit!" 

He whirls to go, shouting an order over his shoulder at Mathew. 

"Stay here!" 

Mathew doesnt listen. His heart is pounding so hard it feels like he's dying, and all he can think about is how Gilbert's face went pale, almost matching his shockingly white hair. Gilbert reaches Francis's room first, even though he's shorter that Mathew, he trains his body more. Mathew isnt far behind when Gilbert bursts into the room, but Mathew doesnt follow him in. He freezes in place at the sound of Francis' broken sobs, and the words he manages to choke out. 

"I wish i was dead!"


	4. Chapter 4

Mathew barely notices when he's pushed away from the room, gently but firmly, and the door is shut behind him. Mathew feels like his blood has turned to ice. The words wont stop ringing in his head. 

_I wish I was dead!_

This is his fault. Because he'd been selfish, because he'd made things worse, Francis- his thoughts are cut off by the sound of a door creaking open, and suddenly Mathew remembers his sisters. There's and urgent feeling growing in his chest, an conviction that they cant know. He finds himself striding to cut Lucille off as she steps into the halway, pasting an expression of mild irritation on his face, the one he wears when Alfred starts teasing him. Its easier to pretend than he thought, much easier than facing his own emotions right now. 

"What's going on?"

Lucille asks sleepily rubbing her eyes. Mathew tries for a exasperated tone as he easily lies.

"Antonio apparently had a dream that Papa replaced him with someone else as a best friend and now he's kicking up a fuss."

Mathew sighs, sticking his trembling hands into his pockets to hide them.

"Just ignore them or they'll get worse.Go back to sleep." 

He chides, and Lucille takes a step back towards the bedroom, studying Mathews face through her sleepy eyes. 

"I thought -" 

She hesitates, and Mathew knows what she was going to say. _I thought something happened to Papa._ She's right, of course, but Mathew refuses to tell her that. He decides to tell a little bit of the truth when he answers, he knows Lucille has seen how pale he looks at the least. 

"Yeah, me too." 

That answer seems to satisfy her and he sees her relax, biting back a yawn and stepping back into the room and nodding to him before closing the door. Almost instantly he wishes she hadn't, because he's all alone and there's nothing to distract him from the thoughts hes trying to avoid. There's a sharp pain in his chest, so bad it feels like he's having a heart attack, and suddenly he finds it hard to breathe. Distantly, he realizes he having a panic attack, and he knows he has to get away from there, he cant break down, now in front of his sisters. Not so close to Francis. 

He doesn't know how he found his way outside into the garden, he's barely aware of the wet grass seeping into his clothes abd turning his hands wet. Every breath feels like its going to be his last, he's choking, his chest is tight and sharp, and it occurs to Mathew that maybe he's actually dying. Mathew's thoughts seemed detached from his situation. He knows he cant die, that its selfish. His sisters need him. Alfred needs him. He wants to think that Arthur and Francis needs him too. 

Mathew doesnt want to die. Vaguely, he becomes aware of a hand on his back, a voice calling him urgently from the distance.

"-tie! Mattie!" 

There's a familiar scent he recognizes from growing up, from stolen sweaters, from leaning on eachother when they're tired. There's a familiar voice, speaking in an unfamilair tone, Half coaxing, half soothing with an undertone of urgency. Slowly, Mathew begins to hear the words.

"Breathe, Mattie. Im here, I've got you."

The hand on his back is tapping, an even, steady beat, and desperately, Mathew tries to slow his breaths to match it. It seems like forever, but finally, Mathew can breath again, a little heaviky, but no longer in desparate gasps. It takes longer for the dizziness to fade. The arms around him dont pull away, the hand doesn't stop tapping. After what seems like hours, what might have been hours, Mathew makes himself move, just enough to meet his brother's face.

"Al." 

He barely chokes out the special nickname only used by him as he's filled with a wonder and awe. He doesn't understand how Alfred could be there, how he was able to arrive just when Mathew needed him most, saving him like the hero Alfred always bragged of being when they grew up. Alfred responded in kind.

"Mattie." 

Rather than releasing him, Alfred's grip tightens. Mathew perfers it that way. Alfred continues to speak, his tone raw and earnest. 

"Its okay, Mattie. Im here."

Alfred is rocking, ever so slightly, like Mathew is a child, and just this once, Mathew lets him. Alfred probes further. 

"Mattie, what's wrong? Let me help you!"

Alfred is pleading in a way Alfred doesn't normally speak, and Mathew is still scared and shaking from his panic attack, hes still scared of what Francis said. Mathew doesnt want to hold his tears back anymore. Suddenly he's sobbing into Alfred's hoodie, and somewhere in the back of his mind Mathew realizes its Alfred's favorite hoodie, and Alfred is going to be so mad, but the greater part of his mind is turned off, his only thought to cry until the lump in his throat and the pain in his chest is gone. Alfred waits patiently for Mathew to stop.

When the tears finally start to slow, Mathew's head feels stuffy, his nose is running and he feels exhausted. Its better than he's felt in a long time. He extracts himslef from Alfred's arms and meets his eyes, flushing a little from his shameful actions. 

"Sorry I ruined your sweater." 

He offers shakily, and Alfred almost looks annoyed that Mathew cares about it. 

"Forget that! What's happened? You weren't this bad when you came to visit Arthur!"

Arthur. With that name, suddenly Mathew is angry. He'd gone to Arthur to ask - no, beg - for his help, and Arthur had turned him away because of his stupid pride. He'd even flown all the way there because Arthur wouldnt pick up the stupid phone, because, even after all these years, Arthur refused to save his number. Because Arthur still saw him as 'the one who chose Francis'. Mathew is seething, furious now, and he spits the words at Alfred he would never usually say.

Mathew always wants to be the nice one, he likes getting along with people, he likes to see their faces light up if he compliments them, but right now, Mathew finds himself wanting the opposite. He wants to see Arthur's face crumple in defeat, he wants Arthur to feel the way he did when Arthur refused to help. But Arthur isn't there, just Alfred. Mathew is secretly gratefull that Arthur isnt there, that he wont hear Mathew's nasty thoughts, even as he snarls the venoumous words. 

"I hate Arthur! He's so absorbed in his stupid pride and can never admit when hes wrong, and always needs to get the upper hand!" 

Mathew refuses to call Arthur "Dad" right now. Alfred's jaw drops with shock at Mathew's harsh words, but Mathew isn't done. 

"Thats why he and Papa split up! Because Arthur's head was so far up his derrière that he couldnt apologize! He's selfish and controlling and hatefull and-"

Mathew takes a deep breath before delivering the last blow, hatred pertering out into heartbreak.

" - its his fault that Papa is dying!" 

Behind Mathew, there's a gasp.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as Mathew hears that gasp, he knows he's done something he cant undo. A part of him is still selfishly pleased, now at least Arthur will know how he felt. The rest of Mathew, his real self, is instantly in turmoil. How could he say that? He didn't really hare Arthur, he was just mad at him. The more it sunk in the more horrified Mathew began to feel at what he'd said. He'd felt terrible when he said those things, like he was breaking into a thousand pieces and turning into a stone all at the same time. It was a mix of devastation, fear, and heartbreak. How could he ever wish someone else could feel that way?

He won't let himself look at Arthur's face, he's scared of what he might see. Arthur doesnt say anything, but he seems frozen. Alfred looks at his face and curses. 

"Shit."

Arthur begins to move, striding past them and begining to turn his speedwalk into a half-jog. Alfred rises after him, tugging Mathew up with him.

"Dad, Wait!"

Arthur doesnt stop. Alfred turns to chase after him, tugging Mathew's arm, but Mathew grinds in his heels as he remembers something important. Alfred turns to look at him questioningly. Mathew tugs his hand out of Alfred's grip, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"I cant go in like this." 

He murmurs pathetically, painfully aware of how he must look right now. Mathew doesn't need a mirror to know his face is blothcy, his nose and eyes are red, and his cheeks and sweater is stained with tears. Alfred looks co fused, so Mathew explains further in an even smaller voice.

"It'll scare Lucille and Michelle." 

Alfred looks bewildered. 

"Lucille and Michelle are here?" 

Mathew wipes his nose on the other side of his sleeve, and uses a clean patch to wipe his face. He feels almost timid as he responds to Alfred's question, the decision that had seemed obvious back then now seeming rather foolish. 

" I thought they could help."

He offers meekly, and Alfred's face twists into a frown. Any further discussion is cut by Arthur's shrill voice, not at all sounding as proper or dignified as usual.

"What do you mean I can't see him! If he's dying then i have the right-" 

This time, Mathew lets Alfred drag him to the doorway. Gilbert is blocking the entrance, the light from within seeiming to form a halo around his white air, a look of frustration and bewilderment on his face as he blocks Arthur's entry.

"Dying? What the hell? He's not dying! Why would you think that?" Gilbert sounds so genuinely confused that Arthur falters, brows knitting together.

"But Mathew -" 

Gilbert looks up suddenly and meets Mathew's eyes over Arthur's shoulder, his red eyes seeming to take in Mathew's messy face, slight tremble to his form and the way he's almost leaning on Alfred all in a second. 

"Oh." 

Gilbert breathes as though everything suddenly makes sense. Both Arthur and Alfred follow Gilbert's gaze to Mathew, looking for answers Mathew wont let himself give. Gilbert sighs, loudly, and mutters a curse under his breath.

"Fine, you can come in, but you can't see Francis." 

Arthur opens his mouth as though to protests, and Gilbert's tone grows warning. 

"Tony and I just got him to sleep, and he needs his rest. If you cant behave, you cant come in." 

Mathew knows he means it. Apparently Arthur does too, because he bites his lip and nods, stiffly. Gilbert mutters something else under his breath, something Mathew is pretty sure would have caused Arthur to wash out his nouth with soap if he said it. Arthur follows Gilbert inside, And Alfred drags Mathew after him. Alfred doesn't follow Arthur to the sitting room, instead, he makes Mathew direct him to the nearest washroom, something Mathew is both grateful and embarrassed about as he washes up. His face looks worse than he thought, even after washing up, but Alfred wont give him time to dwell on it, pulling him after him to the room where the others are. 

Gilbert has switched with Antonio when they enter the sitting room, probably because Arthur is better acquainted with Antonio, even if they aren't friends. Antonio is sipping at a coffee while Arthur nurses a tea, and Mathew knows he was waiting for Alfred before Antonio explains. Mathew closes his eyes and tries to disassociate as Antonio explains, feeling Alfred's hand twitch in his, then tighten, then Alfred's whole body leans against him as though to comfort him, to remind him that he's there.

Mathew is dissociating so well, he doesnt even realize when he falls asleep. When he does wake up, the first thing he notices is Alfred, sleeping soundly beside him in the bed, peacefully. The second thing he notices is that Alfred has both pillows and most of the blankets. Also his feet are cold. Its auch a nostalgic feeling, a familiar occurrence from when he young, that Mathew forgets why Alfred's in his bed for a moment, and administers his revenge the same way he always used to: by planting his cold feet right on Alfred's bare stomach.

Alfred wakes up with a holler loud enough to wake up any other unfortunate souls who happened to still be sleeping. Mathew smirks at him. Alfred makes sure there's a safe distance between himself and Mathew's cold feet, vut there's a look of relief on his face that reminds Mathew instantly of last night. No sooner does he remember, then he's stumbling out of bed, rushing into the hallway despite his cold feet and the pajamas he's belated realizing Alfred must have put on him while he slept. 

"Mattie!" Alfred calls, and then with a sigh, chases after. Mathew can here voices talking in subdued tones and follows them to the dining room, screeching to a halt in the doorway as familiar scents hit his nose. Buttery croissants, fruit pastries, crêpes and bacon all fill the air, and Mathew's stomach growls, reminding him that he's hungry, but Mathew doesn't pay attention to that, he's looking towards the kitchen hopefully, eyes searching for the cook.

"Papa?" 

The dining room freezes and the chatter instantly halts at Mathew's hopeful question. He feels Alfred walk up beside him, and gently bump his shoulder with his own, a comforing move, not a happy one. Mathew's heart sinks as the cook appears out of the kitchen, balancing a plate of crepes piles high. Lucille peaks around the tray carefully as she deposits it on the table, and Mathew trys not to look disappointed. Michelle looks up from her eggs and notices Mathew, her eyes widening as she sees who's beside him, but Lucille hasn't noticed yet. Alfred annouces his arrival by leaning over her shoulder and grabbing a crêpe with his bare hand, roling it up and shoving it in his mouth.

"Mathieu!" 

Lucille gasps in return, scandalized, turning as thought to slap his hand away. Then she freezes. 

"You-"

Her eyes widen and her gaze slips to the doorway, and Mathew returns her shocked gaze with amusement. He eyes go back to the blonde in front of her. 

"Alfred?"

There's a creak on the floor behind Mathew, and Alfred grins from ear to ear. Mathew feels the presence behind him and skirts into the room, sliding hinself into the chair besides Michelle, studiously not looking towards the door. Michelle stiffens next to him and he knows she's noticed the new arrival too. Alfred, ever dramatic, responds proudly to Lucille's shock.

"Not just me!"

There's an awkward cough from the doorway, and Michelle jumps out of her chair with a clatter. 

"Dad!"

She cries at the same time as Lucille acknowledged her step-dad.

"Arthur?"

Mathew doesn't need to see Alfred's face to picture the shit-eating grin he's wearing. He peeks up anyways. Just as he's suspected, Alfred's wearing that stupid grin.

Mathew stabs a sasauge aggressively.


	6. Chapter 6

Mathew tries to fade into the background as he eats, painfully aware of Arthur sitting just across the table from him. He knows he should apologize, but this isnt the time or place. He's grateful for his ability to disappear as the others seem to talk right over him, nobody seeming to notice his quiet demeanor. The table is loud, Antonio, Gilbert and Alfred all laughing abnoxiously loud, Arthur bristling when Alfred responds to his apology for not helping cook breakfast with a comment about his laziness saving their lives, and the general chatter around the table. But Mathew can read a wariness in the air, a tense feeling of waiting for something to happen, and he knows what's causing it.

Every so often, someone will steal a look towards the door before quickly looking away as though they weren't looking in the first place. Mathew finds that atmosphere stifling, like they're all acting on a bad 90's tv show. Alfred starts guesturing wildly as he tells a story, and Mathew takes advantage of the distraction to sneak away to the kitchen, feeling as though he'll suffocate if he stays there any longer. Mathew's mind wanders as he washes, and all of a sudden, he's struck by an overwhelming fear. What if Francis gets worse after seeing Arthur? He remembers how Gilbert hadnt wanted to let Arthur in, and the fear seems to grow. Gilbert knows Francis better than he does, its obvious just by seeing how quickly he and Antonio brought life back into Francis. Even if it was just a little, they'd been able to do what Mathew couldn't. His heart sinks as he realizes something. Francis had gotten better with everyone but him. When he was with Mathew, he'd gotten worse. 

Mathew tries to deny the thought but its persistent, and suddenly he's spiralling into self-doubt. Nothing Mathew had tried had helped. Why did he think Arthur could? He doesn't know when he stopped washing, or when the ringing in his ears or pain in his chest started. He just knows its getting worse. He crouches down, bringing his head to his knees, as everything in his stomach threatens to come back up. He squeezes his eyes shut and he sees Francis behind his eyelids, eyes completely dark, no sign of the spark that used to be there. Mathew tries to chase away the thought, to picture Francis as he used to be, to picture his eyes glowing and his smile spreading across his face. The dark eyed Francis in his mind quirks his lips up into that forced, polite smile. 

The pain in Mathew's chest is sharper now, his nausea is more pronounced. Mathew suddenly finds he cant remember what Francis' smile used to look like before. There's a distant voice that Mathew can barely hear through the ringing in his ears, and he mumbles what he hopes is an exuse about a stomach ache. He cant seem to hear his own voice. Mathew feels sick. Someone helps him to his feet, and Mathew claps a hand over his mouth. There's a repeated murmuring, Antonio's musical voice, saying to hold on, they're almost there. Where? 

The Francis in his mind is holding a rope, darkened eyes staring in almost disinterest as he loops the rope around the coil. Mathew's hands find the rim of the toilet bowl, and his breakfast comes back up. Antonio's voice is further away now, like he's inside a fishbowl. Mathew gulps for air, his nose and throat burning, refusing to blink. Mathew doesn't want to see the end of the story his mind made up. The ringing in his ears is starting to sound like Francis' voice, thick and choked with tears. What is he saying? If only the other voices would just be silent! Mathew's hands creep up over his ears, and he whispers the words as he hears them. 

"I.. wish.. I... was..." 

His hands are wrenched from his ears and wrestled to his side, and Mathew looks up in a glazed bewilderment. 

"Al?" 

But its not Alfred. 

"Don't listen!"

Gilbert instructs, staring Mathew fiercely in the eyes. His eyes are unwavering, a deep, solid red. They remind Mathew of blood. Would he find Francis in a pool of that colour if Francis meets Arthur? Mathew's stomach churns, and he twist to lean over the toilet bowl again, vomiting bile instead of food. His throat is raw and feels like fire, his mouth tastes disgusting and smell of vomit in the air is sickening. His nose is running too and tears are spilling from his eyes, though Mathew cant tell if its because of the force his body took to reject the food, or the traumatic thoughts playing through his mind.

Gilbert is speaking again, sharp and commanding, and Mathew finds himself listening to the commands.

"Stop thinking about it! Pay attention to my voice."

Mathew takes a steadying breath, and the ringing in his ears is fading.

"Good."

Gilbert approves, then there's Alfred's arms around him, despite the vomit, and Alfred's whispering in his ear, words not meant for anyone else, and as Mathew listens, he feels the world slowly falling back into place. 

"Mattie, i need you.

Its okay, I'm here.

Mattie, its okay. 

Calm down, we'll go do something fun, we could play hockey, you like that right Mattie?

I'll be the goalie and you can practice your shots, and then we can get ice cream, okay, Mattie?

Its okay, im right here. 

Its going to be okay. "

Alfred's babbling, not really making sense, but Mathew welcomes the distraction from his thoughts and focuses on what Alfred's saying. Slowly, Mathew realizes he's sitting on the tile floor of the bathroom, Antonio and Gilbert are crowded into the tiny room while Lucille keeps Michelle at bay. Alfred's still babbling, and Mathew licks his lips, disgusted by the taste, and forces the words out his raw throat. 

"Ice cream would be nice."

Mathew offers sheepishly.

"My throat hurts." 

There's a sigh of relief in the bathroom, and Alfred releases him enough to meet Mathew's eyes. He studies Mathew's face, and, apparently satisfied, wrinkles his nose. 

"You stink." 

Despite himself, Mathew's lips quirk up. 

"Sorry."


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred drags Mathew and all but throws him into the shower, but he doesn't leave. Instead, he sits the close toilet lid and chats with Mathew. Its all small, nonsesesical things. The game he played with his brother Kyle, what burger he got last time he ate out, that time he sprained his ankle stepping of the curb. Mathew's never been so grateful for the smalltalk, a chance to think about something light instead of all the heavy thoughts. It's not til he's done showering and brushing his teeth, spitting the rest of his toothpaste down the sink, that he finally asks Alfred the question that's bugging him. 

"Hey Al?" 

He interupts Alfred's rant about skim milk, and Alfred instantly shuts up. Mathew knows from that alone that Alfred had been waiting for Mathew to ask. Still, the words are hard to get out, and they come out as a whisper. 

"What if I messed up?" 

Alfred cocks his head, but doesn't ask Mathew to elaborate, and Mathew knows that Alfred already knows what he means. Alfred looks like he's debating something, the becons Mathew closer with the air of one about to tell a secret. 

"Arthur threatened me not to tell anyone." 

He leans closer as he speaks. Mathew's eyes widen at the words, and his heart starts to soar as though it never hurt in the first place. 

"Arthur cried himself to sleep for weeks after Francis left."

Mathew starts to smile in a way he hasn't smiled in a long time, and Alfred, apparently satisfied, takes his turn in the shower. Mathew thinks that maybe, this time at least, he did something right. The smile doesn't fade, and he's still wearing it even after Alfred starts singing in the shower and Mathew escapes. 

Gilbert is waiting outside the bedroom door. Mathew can see the way his eyes fill with relief at the sight of Mathew's smile, and Gilbert looks like he's struggling to find the words to speak. Mathew suddenly feels guilty. He realizes that he's worried everyone, and he knows that if Gilbert looks this upset then his sisters must be worried too. The smile fades. Gilbert makes up his ninfld on what to say, roughly ruffling Mathew's hair as he speaks. 

"You did good, kid."

Mathew knows he's talking about the decision to bring Arthur here, and even though Alfred's already reassured him, he welcomes Gilbert's reassurance as well. Gilbert dropps his hand but continues in a carefully casual tone. 

"Francis is definitely gonna get better, so you don't need to worry anymore." 

Gilbert smiles in a way that Mathew knows isn't natural, but he doesnt mind. It feels different that the empty smile Fancis makes, and more like a smile made to face an awkward situation. Gilbert coughs a little, and turns as though to go, but says one more thing before he does, squaring his shoulders. 

"Even the awesome me needs help sometimes. Its not shameful to ask for help." 

Then he quickly strides off as though he's embarrassed. Mathew understands what Gilbert is saying. He wasnt mad at Mathew last night because Francis hadn't gotten better. He was upset that Mathew hadn't called them sooner. With this thought comes a shocking understanding. Everytime more people came to help, Francis got better. It wasnt that Mathew wasn't good enough, Francis just needed his family. Mathew suddenly feels very dumb. Gilbert was right. He should have called someone sooner.

When he follows Gilbert into the dinning room, Arthur is helping Antonio clear the last of the dishes off the table. Lucille is wrapping up a plate of food and Mathew knows its for Francis, but he barely has time to take in any of this before Michelle is in front of him, studying his face with concern.

"Are you okay?" 

Mathew thinks about Alfred's words, and he smiles as he answers, and is surprised at how strong and confident he sounds when he responds. 

"Yes. Im fine." 

Michelle beams in response, then punches him in the arm. 

"ow!" 

"tell us if you're not feeling well, you absolute crétin!"

she demands and Mathew winces as he rubs the spot she punched. Despite Michelle's actions, she seems to be lighting up herself, her eyes almoat glowing at Mathew's face. Mathew's smile widens just a little.

"Sorry."

Lucille puts the dish away and smacks his arm lightly as she passes by. 

"i worked hard to make that food, you know."

Lucille's eyes are shinning too as she scolds, as though Mathew's smile is infectious. Mathew repeats his apology, not just to her, but to Antonio and Gilbert too, all at once. Gilbert grins in a way that looks more like a smirk and makes Mathew want to punch him for no reason, and Antonio winks at him with a grin.

Michelle tugs on his arm and pulls him to side with a serious expression, out of view of the others, and turns to Mathew scoldingly.

"There's still someone else to apologize to." 

Mathew freezes. He already knows who she means, and he realizes that he hadn't seen Arthur with the others. Mathew guiltily meets Michelles eyes, nad she frowns deeper.

"What did you say to dad?" 

Mathew flushes with same at the memory, and looks away. He doesn't want Michelle to know what he said.

"I got a little upset." 

Michelle looks like she wants to scold him further, and Mathew knows why. Mathew doesn't get mad very often, he's proud of that, but his whole family knows that there's a drawback to this. When Mathew gets mad, he snaps, and even Mathew knows he's gone too far this time. He doesn't wait for Michelle to scold him further.

"I'll go talk to him."

Artur is out in the garden, still wet with dew, staring forlornly at the rosebush in a way that makes Mathew's heart hurt. Arthur doesn't acknowledged Mathew's presence, but his face stiffens when Mathew speaks. 

"Dad." 

Arthur flinches ever so slightly. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things." 

It's a weak excuse for an apology, Mathew knows. He knows that Arthur also understands. _Im sorry for what i said, but not for how I felt._ Even to Mathew it doesnt feel like a real apology, but the type Alfred and he would say when Arthur made them apologize to each other when they were young. " _Im sorry I made you mad." "im sorry you thought i meant that."_ Not an actual apology, but a hidden accusation used for show to get them out of whatever trouble they were in. Arthur never did notice. 

"You were right though."

He accepts Mathew's apology with a bitter smile, but Arthur doesnt offer his forgiveness. Mathew almost perfers it this way. Its better for Arthur to hold a grudge if he's hurt than to instantly accept it. Its enough that Arthur is admitting he was wrong, even if his tone and smile is bitter. The fact Arthur is even admitting he was wrong tells Mathew that Athur is shaken. 

Mathew's still frustrated, there's still things he wants to say, things he wants to make Arthur realize, but he's afraid that he wont say it right. He takes after his father too much in the way that his words come out. Arthur is still staring at the roses, almost studiously. Francis used to get roses for Arthur all the time when they were together. Mathew reaches for a rose, placing his fingers carefully in the way Francis had taught him years ago.

" _It's like your father,_ "

Francis had said, his eyes glowing as he confided in Mathew.

" _He's beautiful and sweet, but in order to own the rose you have to be carefull to avoid the thorns_."

Mathew twists the stem and it breaks, and the rose comes off in his hand. He spins it in his palm, trying to still his nerves, and casts a sidelong look at Arthur. For the first time Mathew realizes Arthur's eyes are darker too, not anywhere close to Francis', but still dimmed.

Mathew wonders if that's his fault too.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

Arthur's gaze is rested on the rose in Mathew's hand, and Mathew remembers how Arthur's eyes used to light up when Francis would give him a flower. Arthur would bluster that he didnt want it, and would Francis please stop destroying his garden? But in the end, the rose would be placed into a vase in the middle of the kitchen table, and despite Arthur's mask of indifference, it was no secret among the kids how his eyes glowed everytime they fell upon the rose. Mathew wants to see Arthur's face glow in the way it used too, almost as much as he wants Francis' eyes to shine again, as much as he wants to see his Papa's beam again. 

Mathew twists the rose again in his hand. Its pink, not red like the ones Francis used to get Arthur. 

_"Red for love._ " 

Mathew's heart is aching worse now and all he can think about is his words last night. How had Arthur looked when he said those words? Mathew is glad he didn't see. He isnt sure he could handle the guilt if he had. 

"I.." 

Mathew struggles with the words, but he's not just Arthur's son. He's Francis' child too, and Francis always loved to tell Arthur how much he meant to him. Mathew tries to channel his inner Francis as he speaks. 

"I love you, Dad." 

For the first time since Mathew visited Arthur at his home, Arthur turns and meets Mathew's eyes directly. Mathew flushes, but he's not sure why. Hes not saying something embarrassing or dirty. He forces himself not to look away as he holds out the rose to Arthur. 

"I could never hate you. Im sorry." 

Mathew's being sincere, and he wonders if Arthur can hear it in his voice, as Arthur's gaze wavers between the rose and Mathew's face with an expression that Mathew can't read. Arthur's lips twist in a way thats almost a smile, but falls more into the category of a grimmace as he accepts the flower. Arthur shakes his head and speaks in a tone so full of emotion Mathew cant read any of them. 

"You really are his son." 

There's something bitter about those words that rubs Mathew the wrong way. Arthur had spoken in the same way when he and Francis split up, and though he were drawing a line between the children. As though they were fighting a war and Mathew wasn't on Arthur's side. The words make Mathew swell up with bitterness again, and the words escape before he can stop them. 

"Im your son too." 

Arthur jerks his head back up with a look of surprise, and Mathew tries to pretend he didnt say anything. He reminds himself this isnt about him, is about Francis. The memory of Francis'darkened eyes makes the edges of Mathew's lips pull down. Arthur notices, and shakes his head, but the smile looks closer to a real smile and less like a grimmace now. Mathew almost doesn't hear Arthur's voice as he turns to go inside.

"That's certainly true." 

Mathew feels his own eyes widen, and chases after Arthur inside, but he barely enters the parlour before he freezes. There's a familiar man with tired and dimmed eyes talking to Alfred, and Mathew thinks he's never seen him look so empty. Arthur hesitates for a moment too, and when Mathew looks at him, he thinks that Arthur almost looks scared, but just as quickly the look melts into something else that Mathew identifies as irritation. Then Arthur takes a few more steps into the room, throwing his shoulders back. Alfred notices and stops talking, staring wide-eyed. 

Then, in a moment too fast to be relished, Francis turns to see what Alfred is staring at, and Alfred takes several steps backwards. Everyone in the room stops talking and watches with wide, apprehensive eyes.

For a moment, Francis and Arthur just stare at each other. Then, Francis falters, and Antonio steps forwards and catches Francis' elbow to suport him as Francis brings a shaking hand up to cover his eyes.

" 'ow could this be?" 

Francis' voice shakes as he speaks, both despair and wonder colouring his tone.

"Is this 'eaven?"

The ethereal mood is ruined by Alfred's snicker, and everyone in the room gives him the evil eye, including Arthur, and Alfred shuts up. Arthur isnt in the mood to play along with Francis' drama, and Mathew isn't surprised when Arthur responds by crossing the room and smacking Francis upside the head.

"Bloody stupid Frog!"

Arthur scolds sharply, and Francis flinches. 

"What the bloody hell are you doing, worrying your family like this?"

Arthur's sharp, no nonsense tone is unmistakably angry as he spits those words, but his face contrasts the sentiment, twisted in a strange way as though he's only moments from crying. Francis drops his hand in shock, staring wildly at the man who hit him.

"Mon dieu." 

Barely a breath of an exclamation, and Arthur's brows crease further. 

"Its really you." 

Francis stares at Arthur as though to commit him to memory, as though he might disappear if he blinks. Arthur remains unimpressed.

"Don't try to change the subject, you asshat." 

Alfred's shoulders shake, and Mathew knows he's holding back his snickers, but this time, he doesnt really care. In fact, Mathew can feel his own face splitting and widening into a grin of his own. Arthur hasn't changed, not even after all these years, and somehow, Mathew finds that refreshing.Tears are glittering in the corner of Francis' eyes, and all Mathew can think is that Francis' eyes are shinning again, not quite in the way they used to, but there's a light there that was missing before.

Arthur stands with his arms crossed, looking rather petulant, and the scene is so discordant, so familiar, that Mathew has to hid his grin in his sleeve. Anyone watching might think they are reacting to completely different situations. Francis, as though he has just found out his lover wasnt dead. Arthur, as if he is a child who isnt getting his way. Its perfect. Mathew isn't sure how he'd feel if Arthur had teared up clung to Francis and begged him to stay. This Arthur, gruff, unfriendly, tsundere Arthur, is better. This is the Arthur that Mathew knows. This is the Arthur Francis loves. 

Francis weakly wipes the tears from his eyes, and offers, hesitantly, a hint of a joke that his old self loved to tell. 

"I guess you could not resist 'ow sexy I am."

Arthur scowls deeper, uncrossing his arms and pinching Francis by the ear. 

"We need to talk. Come with me."

Antonio nods approvingly as Arthur drags Francis off by the ear. Alfred cheers. Its a long time until Arthur and Francis reappear, both looking suspiciously like they had been crying, although both had their faces washed, and hair and clothes tidied. Arthur doesn't say anything to the waiting family, only pushes by roughly muttering something about tea, but Michelle lights up, beaming like its Christmas, and catches Mathew's eye across the the room. She waits till Mathew nudges Alfred for attention, and Lucille notices the tension, before descreetly tapping the third finger on her right hand. The ring finger.

Its impossible, Mathew knows there's no way, he distinctly remembers Arthur flinging that ring as hard as he could into a pond, but when Arthur returns with a cup of tea, the ring is there, glittering on his ring finger, simple and golden.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to finish up with this chapter but got carried away. I tried to shorten it but didn't want to cut any bits out, so one more chapter after this I guess.

"Mathieu."

It seems like forever since Mathew's heard Francis call his name, and when he turns to face his father, there's a clarity in Francis' eyes he hasnt seen in a long time. 

"Papa."

Theres an awe in Mathew's voice as he responds, like he's seeing something magical. Then Francis holds out his arms and Mathew wraps his arms around his waist, burying his face in Francis's shoulder. Francis isnt fine, not really, but these past weeks since Arthur came, Mathew's begun to see a difference. The darkness in Francis's eyes hasn't gone away, not truely, and Mathew isnt really sure it ever will. Still, these days, more and more often, Mathew is noticing how the light in Francis's eyes is coming back, overtaking the darkness.

"You're back." 

Mathew doesn't mean to say those words, they just seem to slip out, but Francis's only reaction is to hold Mathew tighter. Mathew doesn't want to break the embrace. Finally, he hears a whisper in his ear, chocked with emotion.

"Désolé, Mathieu. I have not been there for you as i should 'ave."

Francis doesn't give Mathew a chance to respond to that, which Mathew is grateful for, because he isnt sure how he should respond. 

"And Merci, for staying by my side. I do not know where i would be without you. " 

Francis' words are chilling, causing Mathew's stomach to churn at the memories, and he stiffens ever so slightly in Francis' arms. Francis releases Mathew just enough to look him in the face, and though Francis still looks tired and pale, there's more life in his eyes than before, and for Mathew, that's more than good enough. Mathew offers Francis a heartfelt smile in return, and though his eyes are burning, they remain dry. Mathew is done crying.

The exchange is cut short by the arrival of the two lesser sensitive family members.

"Yo, Mattie!" 

Alfred chrips, wiggling himself under one of Francis' arms and inserting himself into the hug. Arthur simply clicks his tongue. It's more instinct than a conscious decision that drives Mathew to reach out a hand and haul Arthur into the group hug. Arthur blusters, but doesnt pull away. 

"Really now, I just came to visit, but what is going on?"

Michelle had been disappointed when she learned that Francis and Arthur were going to continue living apart, even after they got back together, but Mathew understands the decision.

_"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, my boy."_

Arthur had once said those words to Mathew when he was younger. Mathew hadn't understood at the time. Now, seeing how Francis lights when Arthur visits, Mathew thinks it makes so much more sense. Alfred is just happy his parents are speaking again, and everytime Francis lights up, or Arthur forgets to hide his smile, Alfred shoots a gleeful look at Mathew that reminds him of their younger years.

Mathew makes the decision to slip away and leave his parents together. Alfred notices and chases after him. Almost instinctively, Mathew let's his feet take him out to the garden, the one Francis loves so much. The flowers he'd planted with Francis what seems like ages ago are blooming, Irises and tulips and roses. Red roses, the ones just for Arthur. It's odd, Mathew knows he should be happy, but instead something is twisting inside. After a moment, Mathew figures it out.

This is where he had tried so hard to bring Francis back. This is where he'd failed, day after day, seeing his Papa's eyes grow darker every day. The flowers are beautiful, but to Mathew, they're only symbols of his failure. A hand lands on his shoulder and Mathew suddenly remembers he's not alone. Alfred looks concerned when he speaks.

"Mattie?" 

And Mathew finds himself spilling his heart about how he wasn't good enough, even though he knows it was something he couldn't do alone, that his whole family was needed, Mathew still can't help but feeling he's failed. Alfred's brows draw together as Mathew speaks, and his response jerks Mathew back to reality. 

"I know." 

Mathew stops babbling with shock and stares at Alfred. His brother's declaration sounds ludicrous to Mathew, but he can tell by Alfred's heavy tone that he means the word. For the first time Mathew notices the shadow in Alfred's eyes. 

"Al?"

Alfred kicked somewhat bitterly at a rock, and Mathew's known him long enough to tell he's trying to keep a straight face. Alfred isn't the type to keep things in, and he confesses the cause of the shadow in a pained tone, not meeting Mathew's eyes. 

"I know how it feels to not be able to help."

Mathew realizes what he did wrong. From the start Alfred had been willing to help, from giving him and Arthur space, to talking Arthur around, even to outright offering to help and flying down to France from England. And Mathew hadn't given him the chance. One by one he remembers each example of how he snubbed Alfred.

 _Anything I can do to help?_ A text. Mathew had ignored it. _Mattie, what's wrong? Let me help you!_ Even when he was comforting Mathew during his panic attack, Mathew hadn't listened, instead attacking Arthur verbally. The look Alfred had given when he found out Mathew had called Lucille and Michelle but not him. But even though Mathew kept shutting him out, Alfred has still flown down to help, nursed Mathew through panic attacks and held him close even when he was coated in vomit, and encouraged him when he was down.

A lump forms in Mathew's throat, one that's hard to swallow past.

"Matt, why didn't you ask me for help?" 

Alfred finally turns his eyes to Mathew, and Mathew finches at the earnest look in Alfred's blue eyes. Why hadn't he? Alfred had proven time and time again he was dependable, that he was helpful, so why hadn't Mathew seen what was right in front of him? The answer that comes to him is sickening to Mathew.

Because Alfred was his half-brother on Arthur's side, not Francis.

Mathew realizes that Arthur wasn't the only one drawing lines between the family.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the final chapter! I had to cut out most of Alfred's rant, but I finally got this set.   
> Just a reminder:  
> Alfred = America   
> Arthur =Britain/England /UK  
> Francis =France  
> Mathew=Canada  
> Lucille=Monaco  
> Michelle=Seychelles   
> Antonio=Spain  
> Gilbert=Prussia
> 
> Aditionally:
> 
> Kyle= Australia   
> James=New Zealand 

Mathew doesn't want to answer Alfred's question. He doesn't want to show the ugly feelings he hides inside him again, he doesn't want to repeat what happened with Arthur. Mathew doesn't want to make the light in Alfred's eyes go out either. Mathew hesitates. He needs to say something, he needs to answer Alfred, but what should he say?

Should he lie? Mathew wonders if Alfred will believe his lie. Alfred is smart, he could probably tell Mathew is lying, but Alfred is also pure hearted, and Mathew wonders if his brother will believe Mathew just because he says it. At the same time, Mathew is worried that if Alfred finds out he's lying, he'll be hurt, and his eyes will shine a little less. Mathew can't go through that again. He doesn't want to see another family member hurting. He doesn't want to be the reason why.

Mathew hesitates for too long, and he notices Alfred is searching his face. Mathew tries to wear a pokerface, but its always been a weakness of his. Mathew's usually overlooked, so he's not used to having to hide his expression, and it's practically useless against Alfred, who's know him most his life, the same way Alfred can't hide his expression from Mathew. Alfred's brows draw together, and his fingers are shaking the slightest bit as he asks a question.

"Is the truth something that will hurt?"

Alfred's tone is timid, and Mathew realizes Alfred is scared. His heart sinks further and Mathew can't find the words to respond. Mathew's silence seems to be answer enough for Alfred, and he wilts.

"Then just tell me a lie, Mattie."

There's a desperation in his request,like Alfred is afraid of the same thing Mathew is. Like Alfred's afraid he'll get hurt too. Mathew's chest stings. Alfred looks like he's giving up on something, though Mathew doesn't know what. Mathew doesn't like it. He decides to tell part of the truth.

"It's because I wanted to be the hero this time." 

Mathew mumbles the words guiltily, referencing Alfred's favorite phrase growing up. _"I'm the hero!"_ Saying it out loud makes it feel even more shameful, like he's a child admitting to Arthur that he had stolen the cookies after Arthur had defended him and said he wouldn't have. Like he's betrayed Alfred's trust. He doesn't look at Alfred, all he can do is study the rocks in the gravel path to distract himself.

"I wanted it to be me who saved him, not you."

The words hold a disgusting truth Mathew is still competing against. He'd always known he couldn't do it alone. If he'd call for help sooner, relied on Alfred sooner, it would never have gotten that bad. Francis would never have said those words. _I wish I was dead._ Mathew is afraid. He's afraid of what Alfred will say, how he'll react. 

"Is that all?" 

Alfred sounds relieved, and when Mathew jerks his head up to meet Alfred's gaze, he looks relieved too. There's still regret in his brother's eyes, but they aren't darkened, and Mathew is relieved that Alfred believes him. Of course there's no need for Alfred to feel guilty because of Mathew's inferiority complex, because Mathew wanted to be the hero. Alfred can't blame himself for Matthew's bad decision.

Alfred is studying Mathew's face too, hands clenching and inclenching, then clenching into fists once more.

"Hey Mattie?"

"Hm?"

"Let me hit you just once."

Mathew's eyes widen.

"What-"

Then Alfred socks him hard in the shoulder,and Mathew nearly falls over,catching himself at the last moment. Alfred curses and shakes his fist, and Mathew cant stop himself from cursing too as the pain registers, throbbing and stinging. After several curses that would have both Francis and Arthur washing their mouths put with soap, fully grown independent adult or not, Mathew remembers why he was hit, and freezes. 

Alfred seems to remember too, and glares at him. 

"We're a family, Matt. We put each other before ourselves, so if one of us needs help, if Francis needs help, or Arthur, or me, or anyone, your first priority is getting us all out there to help him! You got it?"

Alfred is angry,and ranting in a way Mathew's only had the misfortune of experiencing a few times before. With each furious word, something settles in Mathew's chest. It's not just guilt, but a feeling of comfort, like some weight untying, as Alfred scolds him, and a little resentment too, unjustified as it is. Mathew's shoulder and chest are aching, but Mathew almost wants to laugh, because it's not the same ache he's been feeling. Its something new. 

"I understand."

He interrupts Alfred's rant with a confirmation, because Mathew knows Alfred is right. Alfred hesitates, screwing up his face, and Mathew thinks it looks like he might cry. But of course he won't. Alfred hasn't cried, not even through everything that's happened so far, so why would he cry now? 

But maybe that's why a tear slides down Alfred's cheeks, and quickly turns into a stream. This time, it's Mathew's turn to hold his brother as he cries. Alfred breaks down as Mathew wraps his arms around him, and Mathew pretends not to notice the ugly face Alfred makes as he sobs, or how he wipes his runny nose on his sweater. Its the least he can do. While Alfred's sniffles begin to calm, Mathew remembers his family, his _whole_ family. He remembers Alfred's words.

Alfred pulls away, wiping his face on Mathew's sleeve and mutter halfhearted apologies, but Mathew doesn't acknowledge them. He doesn't deserve them. Instead, he asks a question.

"Hey, why don't we get Kyle and James to come down too?"

The suggestion slips out before Mathew can fully explain it and Alfred gives him a look. 

"We're all family, after all."

Mathew offers a sheepish smile, and Alfred stares into Mathews eyes intently for a moment, before melting into beam and he drags Mathew into a hug.

"Al? What?"

Alfred squeezes so hard he almost crushes Mathew, and Matthew's almost distracted from the words Alfred mumbles into his shoulder.

"The light's coming back in your eyes."

Mathew feels like everything is going to be alright somehow.


	11. Author's Note

At this point the story is over, but I've written some snippets of some of the scenes form the other characters POV, so if you're interested, please do continue on. 


	12. "Mattie is asking for help!"

_The door closes behind Mathew as he leaves, and Arthur watches him go through the window with a furrowed brow. He feels bad for shutting Mathew down before he truly had the chance to finish asking, but he also feels hurt. He's not ready to reopen that door, to visit the cause of his pain, and he's hurt that Mathew decided to ignore his feelings in favour of Francis. He still stings from the feeling of betrayal when he realizes that once again, Mathew has chosen Francis over him._

_He pushes down the feeling of guilt_ _and covers it with a little feeling of triump. A part of him is saying "See how it feels when no one's on your side?" It's childish and petty, and Arthur knows that, but he can't control the feeling._

_The feeling of triumph dies immediately when he sees Alfred's face. Alfred doesn't look angry or frustrated, that would be easy to deal with. Instead, Alfred just looks disappointed. Alfred has grown up with a hero complex, always wanting to be the one to save or help people, and Arthur knows why._

_"You know the reason Alfred wants to be hero? It's because of you. Because he wants to be to everyone else what you were to him when he was younger."_

_It was something Arthur had brushed off at the time, but had never truly forgotten. Over time, he'd noticed more and more how Alfred mimicked the actions Arthur himself used to do. When his younger sibling's were upset, Alfred would bring them warm milk, or rub their back, and distract them with fantastic stories, all things Arthur did for him when he was young. Arthur was proud to be Alfred's hero. That's why the look of disappointment his son's eyes felt so much worse than anger or frustration would have._

_"What?"_

_He snaps, unable to stay quiet in the face of Alfred's disappointment. He wants Alfred to get angry, or ideally, forget about it or perhaps tell Arthur he was right, though he knows that won't happen. Alfred is uncharacteristicly still as he responds reproachfully._

_"Dad, Mattie is asking for help!"_

_Arthur doesn't want to hear Alfred telling him he's wrong. He hates the nasty feeling that springs up inside him, the whispering voice saying Alfred is choosing Francis over him too. He tries to bite down on the nasty words that threaten to spill out, but when he speaks his tone isn't completely devoid of the bitterness._

_"I can't see him right now Alfred. You know that. Why don't **you** go?" _

_Alfred looks even more reproachful, and his usual energy is returning, his hands fluttering from his side, to his hair, to his pockets, and back to his side again. Alfred starts shifting from foot to foot, but Arthur feels a little relieved at the frustration in his voice._

_"Mattie didn't ask for **my** help, Dad, he asked for yours."_

_Arthur feels himself go stiff, readying for a fight, both his face and spine stiffening. He gives Alfred the face they both know means the end of the discussion. Alfred glares at Arthur and spins on his heel, as though to stomp out of the room. He pauses for a moment, and Arthur waits coldly for that last scathing comment. It doesn't come. Instead Alfred sounds quiet and resigned._

_"Then at least give me Antonio's number. I'll see if him and Gil will help."_

_Arthur flinches at the tone and the messages hidden in the words. It feels like Alfred is saying "If I can't depend on you, then I'll call someone I can depend on." The stinging in Arthur's chest expands, and he wants to cry or shout or something. Why can't they understand? Why can't anyone seem to recognize that it hurts? Arthur doesn't want to make it worse. He doesn't think he can handle it if it does get worse, but they just don't seem to care._

_Why, is it always, always, Francis?_

_Arthur barely keeps himself composed as he writes down his old friends phone number on a scrap of paper and all but throws it at Alfred. He doesn't wait to see if if Alfred catches it or what his reaction is, only brushes by cooly and makes his way into the study._

_The best medicine for heartache is work. After all._

_Alfred starts to type out a text._

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	13. "How are you doing, Francis?"

_Mathew doesn't respond to Alfred's text. Alfred can't help but frown as he dials the phone, but he doesn't call the number that Arthur gave him right away. Instead he calls a different number saved in his phone. The phone only rings once before its answered._

_"Allo?"_

_Alfred winces at the tiredness in his father's tone. Francis sounds exhausted, and Alfred wonders if this is related to why Mathew came. He doesn't know the details of the situation, he hadn't wanted to eavesdrop, and Arthur hadn't wanted to explain, but he knows enough to understand that Mathew had wanted help, and it had something to do with Francis, and that's why Arthur had refused. He hopes Francis can clear it up._

_"Hey Francis!"_

_Alfred greets him cheerfully._

_"Alfred?" Francis sounds surprised._

_"I was talking to Mattie and then I thought of you and decided to call!"_

_It's not technically a lie, since all that did happen, and when Francis responds Alfred is glad he left out the details. Francis sounds tired, in a way that even makes Alfred want to go make some coffee, but he also sounds genuinely happy that Alfred called._

_"I'm glad you did. We haven't talked in a long time. Are you good, mon Cher?"_

_Alfred laughs at Francis's use of the pet name and grins as he responds._

_"Haven't broken any bones or anything lately, so pretty good!"_

_Alfred almost forgets why he called as he gives Francis a quick rundown of his life recently. Then Francis asks a question, trying to seem casual, but there's a strain in his voice and the question comes out timid._

_"And your Father? Is he..?"_

_Alfred remembers the stone look on Arthur's face and the despairing look on Matthew's face, and his smile falters for a moment and he catches himself before Francis can hear it in his tone._

_"Oh, you know him, same old, bushy brows, grumpiness, tea, the usual."_

_Alfred doesn't tell Francis about what happened earlier. He has a feeling Francis shouldn't know. He thinks back to Matthew's visit. Usually his brother would make time for him when he visited, even if he came for Arthur, Mathew would make time for Alfred after. This time, Mathew had made it clear he'd wanted to speak only to Arthur, and as the older brother Alfred had no choice but to give them space._

_But Mathew hadn't spoken to Alfred at all, and the hopeless and miserable look on Matthew's face as he left worries Alfred. He's worried that Arthur said something sharp and hurtful to Mathew, and like always, his brother just silently accepted it. He's also worried because Arthur had made it clear that the issue included Francis, and Mathew is the sensitive type, Alfred knows his half-brother wouldn't fly over to Arthur's house to talk about Francis unless it was important._

_It's this feeling on unease that makes Alfred's tone gentler than usual as he tries to respond casually._

_"And you? How're you doing Francis?"_

_There's a moment of silence and Alfred figures out what's wrong. The Francis he knows is more lively and excitable, usually it wouldn't even take a prompt to hear about his day, and if it did the response would be instant. When Francis does respond a moment later, he gives a generic "Comme çi, comme ça, you know how it is sometimes." and a chill runs down Alfred's back and stays there._

_When Alfred casually inquires into Francis's whereabouts, he's surprised to hear that Mathew has taken him to Paris, and though Francis says he's not sick, Alfred can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. He recognizes the address from when they used to vacation as a family every year, and they'd rent the same place. It's strange that Francis is there alone with Mathew in a place usually visited with family._

_Alfred wonders if that's why Francis sounds so tired. When he finally ends the call, (Francis had said he was tired) Alfred is certain he needs to call Antonio._

_He dials the number Arthur gave him._

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	14. "Something's up with Francis"

_Antonio almost doesn't hear the phone ringing over the bickering of the other residents in the apartment. He picks up somewhat distractedly on the fourth ring, and doesn't check the caller ID._

_"Holà!"_

_He's surprised when he hears the voice on the other end._

_"Hi Antonio! It's Alfred! I didn't have your number so I got it from Arthur, hope you don't mind!"_

_The information comes spilling out from the other end of the phone in a rush, and Antonio realizes the caller is nervous. Another person may not have noticed, but Antoino has experience raising children and knows how to listen for the uncertainty in their voices, how to tell when they need comfort._

_Even so, usually Antonio might have ignored it, Alfred isn't a child anymore, and it isn't his responsibility to deal with it, but Alfred's next words make him anxious. Alfred is clearly trying to speak casually, but his tone is nervous, and the very fact Alfred would call Antonio to ask this tell Antonio that it's not a simple issue._

_"Anyways, I was just calling to see if you and Gil were free to hang out with Pa- Francis."_

_It's strange because it's Alfred. Alfred is an acquaintance, a child of his friends, but personally Antonio isn't close with him, so it's strange that Alfred was the one to call. Upon reflection, it makes sense that Arthur wouldn't call, not after the dramatic separation, but still, it would make more sense for Francis, or perhaps Francis' other son to call(Antonio can't remember his name, but thinks it starts with an M. Or maybe an N? ), the son that had gone with Francis after the separation._

_Alfred still is rambling, explaining that Francis is in Paris, and not-quite-casually giving out the address. Antoino isnt actually that far away, visiting a friend nearby, it wouldn't be hard to go. Moreover, Alfred's voice is tense as he presses for a reply, and Anotinio knows that something is wrong with his good friend. With this knowledge, there's really only one thing he can say in response to Alfred's request._

_"Si! Gilbert and I would **love** to visit! I'll go right away!" _

_Antonio knows he's made the right choice when he hears Alfred release a breath of relief, and hears the sincerity in his voice when the young m_ _an thanks him._

_Antonio ends the call cheerfully but quickly turns serious as he speed dials his other friend. The phone picks up almost immediately._

_"Beildschmidt résidence, Gilbert speaking."_

_Antonio doesn't beast around the bush._

_"Gil, it's Tony. Alfred just called. Something's up with Francis."_

_The answer is immediate, sharp and precise with the German accent._

_"Then let's go check on him."_

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	15. "Well then, Let's go."

_Arthur throws down his pen with frustration. The more he tries to distract himself with his work, the more he can't focus. Matthew's words keep floating around in his mind._

_"Won't you come visit Papa? He's not doing well."_

_There was an undertone of fear in Matthew's voice that Arthur had ignored the first time, but now he can't stop thinking about it. Mathew had looked upset too. It wasn't like Mathew to come down to Arthur's just to preasure him. Mathew does tend to be the type to get an idea in his head and act on it, and isn't easily persuaded, but even so, this sort of action is aggressive for him._

_"Mattie is asking for help!"_

_Alfred's rebuke plays over in his head, and Arthur suddenly feels like something might be wrong. Mathew isn't the type to ask for help. Maybe it comes from having a brother as loud and demanding as Alfred, or maybe he'd simply wanted to be praised for a job well done, but even as a child Mathew usually tried to solve things on his own instead of asking for help._

_Or maybe, Arthur reflects, he'd never really learned to depend on his busy parents. Maybe he thinks he can't depend on Arthur. Th_ _at thought makes his stomach sink as he realizes what he's done. Mathew had come to Arthur to ask for help, and Arthur had refused._

_"Dad, please! I don't know what to do! I... I need you."_

_Mathew had sounded close to tears when he'd spoken. Arthur had been too angry at the thought of Francis to care. Now, he wishes he had. His heart begins to speed up._

_Something is wrong._

_Mathew asked him for help._

_Arthur had refused._

_Arthur suddenly remembers multiple times this happened before, even when Mathew was a child. He thinks that he's reason that Mathew doesn't think he can ask for help. He thinks he's a terrible father. Before Arthur can drown himself in his own self-loathing, there's a knock at the door._

_It's Alfred, and he lets himself in without waiting for Arthur's approval. He doesn't wait for Arthur to acknowledge him before he starts speaking._

_"Dad, I think we should go see Papa."_

_Alfred has a firmness in his voice that suggests he isn't making a suggestion. Arthur didn't miss the "we" in the statement either. He knows what Alfred is saying and the implications if he should refuse without Alfred saying them aloud._

_"_ _**Come with me to see Dad, or I'll go alone."** _

_Arthur adds another ultimatum on the end of the hidden message._

_**"And I might not come back."** _

_There's a thousand thoughts in Arthur's head, and more than too many emotions in his heart, and he picks out three thoughts to help him decide what to do._

_**Alfred and Mathew want me to see Francis.** _

_**Something is wrong.** _

_**I'm worried about that idiot.** _

_Arthur stands up and reaches into his desk drawer for his passport._

_"Well then, let's go."_

_Alfred breaks into a beam, true and bright, and his eyes light up like he's found his hero again. Arthur scowls. He doesn't want to see Francis. He doesn't want to get hurt. He doesn't want Francis to be hurt. He **does** want to see Francis, just a little. He tsks at his own thoughts as Alfred books tickets. _

_He does still love that wanker after all, even if he wants to deny it._

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	16. "Francis, please be okay!"

_It isn't right to blame the child, Gilbert knows this, but he also knows that the one he still thinks of as a child is not a child any longer. He's a young man and should have known better. Mistakes can be deadly in a situation like this, and it's the fear this knowledge brings that terrifies Gilbert and makes his words harsher as he speaks._

_"How long has he been like this?"_

_Gilbert needs to know how bad it is, how deep Francis has fallen. The young man flinches at Gilbert's answer, and his eyes slide away as he answers. That in itself is enough to answer his question. Gilbert clicks his tongue in frustration. He's irritated, because he's sure if he had arrived earlier, if him and Antonio could have helped sooner, Francis never would have gotten this bad._

_He's frustrated because not only Francis, but even his son, a picture image of his dad when he was younger, didn't call for help. He's frustrated because he thinks if he visited more often, he wouldn't have had to be told. He's irritated because he thinks it's his fault too, and Gilbert knows he shouldn't think this way. His words come out harsher than he means, his voice always sounds sharper when he's nervous._

" _And you just left him like that? Why didn't you call us? We could have helped!"_

_It's hard to not be irritated when he knows that Mathew knew Francis was depressed and did nothing. He knows Mathew has his number, he uses it sometimes to text the boy to pick up Francis if they have a little too much fun on a night out and Francis gets too drunk. If not from Francis, he should have heard from Mathew, not Alfred who had to get Antonio's number from his dad._

_It makes Gilbert wonder if Mathew thinks he's unreliable. He knows he likes to joke a lot and play pranks childishly, but Gilbert's a full grown adult and at the end of the day he knows when to be serious and when to joke. He raised his own little brother, for_ _goodness sake, and he thinks he did a really good job too. Gilbert hopes his brother will know to call his friends and not try to deal with it alone if Gilbert ever falls into depression._

_The thought that his younger brother might be in Matthew's shoes causes Gilbert to soften, especially as he hears Matthew's whispered apology, and sees the broken light in the boy's eyes. It reminds Gilbert that Mathew is really just a child, despite his age, he's only a child dealing with a depressed parent. He's not like Gilbert, he hasn't dealt with it before and doesn't know the right things to do. He's scared and alone and needs guidance, not just a scolding. Gilbert tries to soothe the boy._

_"Hey, it's not your fault."_

_Its obvious that Mathew doesn't believe him, and Gilbert wants to curse the him from a few moments ago that scolded before comforting. Mathew doesn't argue, but Gilbert can tell he isn't getting through to the boy and he tries to explain._

_" You're still a chil -"_

_Gilbert realises that Mathew might not take well to being called a child and quickly changes his words._

_"Ah, no, I mean, you're not alone. If something happens its fine to rely on us older people."_

_He thinks his little brother would laugh if he knew Gilbert called himself "older." Mathew doesn't laugh, only looks guiltily at the ground. Gilbert isn't sure what he should say to comfort the boy, and he doesn't get the chance. His phone buzzes and he slips it out._

_"It's Tony."_

_Tony is watching Francis. It sounds wrong to think of it like that, but it's true. Gilbert remembers back in college and what had happened when Francis was left alone. Gilbert had known Francis was depressed back then, but he hadn't understood. He won't make the same mistake again. The text from Antonio is only two words but they say more than enough, and Gilbert's heart is pounding._

_**"Come quickly**." _

_He curses before he can stop himself but he doesn't have time to care. He barely manages to tell the boy to stay there, before he takes off running. It won't do Mathew any good to see Francis in this state, and it certainly will makes things worse for Francis if he does._

_He has one thought_ _on his mind as he takes the steps two at a time._

_"Francis, please be okay."_


	17. "I wish I was dead!"

_Antonio knows Francis is spiralling as soon as Francis declines dinner and wants to head straight to bed. As a friend, Antonio know better than to ignore it. The decision is made as soon as he locks eyes with Gilbert, and Antonio follows Francis to his room. He studies the queen bed critically before deciding they can all fit if they squeeze. He's in his pajamas by the time Francis finishes in the shower, and Francis doesn't look surprised to find Antonio on his bed._

_Antonio waits for Francis to sit down next to him before he speaks._

_"You're not alone, Amigo."_

_The first time they found out about Francis's depression was in collage, and Francis had been mostly alone at that point, or at least tended to think he was. Antonio doesn't want him to think that way again. Antonio's words open the floodgates, and Francis begins to cry, and Antonio is relieved. He knows it'd sound insane to say this out loud, but he'd rather see his friend crying because of the pain than the emptiness that he'd seen before._

_Antonio is just happy that Francis is feeling anything. If Francis feels the pain, or the sadness, or the anxiety that is causing the depression, Antonio thinks he can help him move past it. Antonio's not afraid of the tears. It's the emptiness, the blankness in Francis' eyes, the lack of reaction to the outside forces that scares Antonio. That's why he's relieved Francis is crying._

_He texts Gilbert quickly. He knows he can't do it alone, and he knows Gilbert will kill him if he doesn't let him know. They both need to be there for Francis. Francis curls down with the force of his sobs, and Antonio takes the chance to pull Francis into his arms. Francis is trying to explain and apologize, a mixture of French and English, and Antonio is only understanding half of it, but it's enough, and his heart feels like it's breaking._

_"Desolé, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm like this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so weak. I'm sorry for always troubling you. Désolé."_

_Frabcis is blaming himself and Antonio hates it, but he knows it's best to let Francis let it out before he contradicts him. It won't do any good to tell Francis he's wrong when he's already blaming himself. Francis probably won't believe him. Instead, Antonio tells him little truths._

_"You are stronger than me, sometimes, Amigo."_

_"I'm sorry I keep doing this."_

_"I'll be here for you no matter how many times you need me. Gilbert too."_

_"Désolé, I've cause you trouble."_

_"But causing trouble is what we are good at, si? Both Gilbert and I too cause you trouble."_

_"I was not good enough to Art'ur."_

_Antonio doesn't respond. He doesn't know what to say to that without upsetting Francis more. Francis chokes on his tears, and Gilbert opens the door and rushesin the room, face distraught. Francis makes a confession that freezes Antonio's blood._

_"I wish I was dead!"_

_There's a gasp from behind Gilbert, and Antonio drops Francis into Gilbert's arms as he pushes Mathew out of the room and closes the door. He knows the boy can't be here. The boy shouldn't have heard that, but he doesn't have time to worry about that. Gilbert is holding Francis and speaking in the soft voice he used to use when he put his little brother to bed._

_Francis' words hurt, but Antonio knows he doesn't mean them. No, perhaps right now he does, but Antonio knows he'll regret them later. Gilbert is reminding Francis why that is._

_"But what about your family?"_

_Francis' shoulders are shaking with the force of his sobs, and he doesn't respond. Gilbert continues._

_"What about Lucille? Do you remember how small she was when you first introduced me? She looks just like you, she's so proud to have you as her Papa. What about her? Do you want to leave her alone?"_

_Francis still doesn't respond, but Gilbert doesn't seem to expect him too, and neither does Antonio. Antonio starts to rub Francis s back as he used to do to calm Lovino when he was raising him. Gilbert continues in the same soft tone that perhaps only three people in the world knows he can use._

_"What about that other little girl?"_

_Michelle isn't a little girl, but to Francis she might always be one, and Gilbert uses this to his advantage._

_"She is worried about you, she just wants to stay near you and she wants to see you smile again, I can tell from her face. She loves you. Do you want to leave her behind?"_

_Francis's sobs begin to slow, and Antonio chimes in._

_"What about Alfred? Do you know he called us because he's worried about you? He looked up to you. Do you know he always says that your food is the best? He really loves you too. What about him?"_

_"What about Mathew?"_

_Gilbert adds, and Antonio remembers the boy's presence at the door moments ago and tries to meet Gilbert's eyes. Gilbert is looking only at Francis, but his voice sounds genuinely worried about Mathew as he speaks._

_"That boy loves you more than life itself. Will you leave him alone too? What about us? What about Toni and me? We don't want to live in a world without you."_

_Francis jerks and shakes his head._

_"Ich liebe dich, Franny." Gilbert deals the last blow, and Antonio chimes in too._

_"Te quiero."_

_It's not a romantic love, but a love for family, because that's what Francis is to Antonio. Not a friend, but Family. And he won't let himself lose him. It takes some time, but Francis calms himself down enough to stop crying, and takes the offered tissue and blows his nose somewhat sheepishly._

_"Merci. J'taime aussi."_

_Francis whispers the words, and even though he doesn't take back his earlier statement, Antonio know he doesn't mean it anymore. It doesn't take long for Francis to drift off after that, exhausted from the ceaseless sobbing. Antonio wipes his face down with a warm damp cloth, and tucks him into bed. Gilbert watches with darkened eyes._

_A bell chimes, and Antonio realizes its the door. Gilbert stand up._

_"I'll get it."_

_He's frowning, and Antonio knows he has a suspicion of who it is and doesn't like the answer. Antonio too, thinks he knows._

_He isn't sure if it's a good thing or not._

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	18. "Mattie, What's wrong?"

_Arthur is the stubborn type, the type to do something once he decides to, and not be deterred no matter what is said. Alfred is familiar with his father's powerful walk and confident gaze, but this time, Arthur falters at the gate. Alfred tries to wait patiently, but he's not the patient type, and he's beginning to consider picking Arthur up and carrying him over to the door, and ringing the bell himself._

_He doesn't get the chance. The door slams open, and the light comes spilling out from inside, illuminating a familiar figure. Alfred raises his hand to call out to his brother, but stops. Something is wrong. Mathew curls up into a ball on the dew-wet grass, and even from here Alfred can hear him gasping for breath. In a moment, Alfred is through the gate at his brother's side, and he can feel Arthur not far behind._

_Mathew is choking and gasping as though he is being drowned, his shoulders shaking and his face is white. Alfred's seen this on TV enough to identify it a s a panic attack, but he can't seem to remember how to help. All he can think about is Mathew. He's terrified, his brother looks like he's going to die, and Alfred feels like it might be true. Instinctively he pulls Mathew into his arms as he often did when they were younger, and Mathew would wake up crying from a nightmare._

_Dimly, he's aware he calling his brother's name, but he's not really sure what he's saying. Finally, Matthew's gasps grow less demanding, and Alfred feels relief as the breaths become less rattling. He rubs his brother's back like Arthur had done to him when he was younger, begging Mathew to breath, saying its okay, Alfred is there. Mathew is safe._

_Finally Matthew's breaths become even, and Mathew twitches in his arms but doesn't try to move, he doesn't seem to want to. Mathew mumbles Alfred's nickname into his shoulder, and his voice is tiny and weak when he does._

_"Al."_

_It feels like a question, not an acknowledgement, though Alfred isn't sure what the question is, he knows the answer._

_"Mattie."_

_He tightens his grip on his brother, and it feels weird, like he's holding a little kid, not his full grown brother. He's never seen Mathew have a breakdown like this before, and Alfred is terrified. He'd known something was wrong, Mathew would never have flown over to visit Arthur if it wasn't important, but now Alfred's head is beginning to fill with reasons that Mathew would panic like this, each worse than the last, and he can't shake them away. Alfred presses Mathew for an answer._

_"Mattie, what's wrong? Let me help you!"_

_Mathew dissolves into tears, and Alfred feels even more afraid. Was it something he did? Is that why Mathew can't tell him? Is it something so bad that Mathew can't say it? Arthur is hovering behind Matthew's back, looking like he'd like to comfort him, but isn't sure how to. He looks guilty, and Alfred knows it's because of how he treated Mathew earlier, but he can't seem to care right now. He just wants Mathew to stop crying, he wants his brother to feel better, and he doesn't know how to fix this._

_Finally, Mathew stops crying, sitting back and wiping his eyes and nose on his sweater, and Alfred releases his brother from his bear hug. Matthew's red and swollen eyes dart up to Alfred's timidly, then fall to the tear and snot-stained sweater, and Alfred can't tell if Mathew is flushing from the meltdown or from embarrassment as he timidly apologizes._

_"Sorry I ruined your sweater."_

_Its such a miniscule, unimportant thing to worry about that Alfred feels a little annoyed that Mathew even thinks it matters. A sweater is nothing. It can be washed or replaced. Family can't be replaced. He more upset that Mathew won't explain what's going on than he could ever be about a sweater. He wishes his brother would depend on him._

_"Forget that! What's happened? You weren't this bad when you came to visit Arthur!"_

_Immediately Alfred can tell he made a mistake. Mathew looks like he might start crying again and his whole face turns red. His hands clench into fists, and too late, Alfred realizes he's set off one of his brother's rare explosions of anger, though he quickly realizes it's not him, but Arthur that Mathew is angry at. Still, that doesn't make the poisonous way Mathew spits the words out any easier to hear, and more than once Alfred flinches at the cruel words._

_Arthur retreats a step behind Mathew, and he looks crushed, like he's about to cry as well. Alfred wants to hug his dad and tell him everything is going to be all right, but he can't make himself move, frozen under the onslaught of Matthew's boiling anger. Then Mathew says something that comes right from one of Alfred's darkest nightmares._

_"It's his fault Papa is dying!"_

_Alfred wants to be scared about what that means, he wants to comfort Mathew and tell him everything will be okay, and to tell him he's wrong about Arthur, but one look at Arthur's face tells Alfred the most important thing to do. Because Arthur looks like he was just shot._

_"Shit."_

_Alfred curses, and Arthur begins to move, almost mechanically. Alfred chases after him. All his instincts are tell him that at this moment, he absolutely mustn't leave Arthur alone._

_"Dad, Wait!"_

_Arthur doesn't stop and Alfred feels like his whole family is unravelling right now, here in the small garden in Paris, in a place that used to have good memories, but now everything is falling apart._

_Alfred is really scared because he isn't sure he can fix it._

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	19. "I've come to see Francis"

_Arthur feels like his whole life is falling apart._

_"It's his fault Papa is dying!"_

_Matthew's words are on replay in his mind, and Arthur is terrified. He doesn't know what Mathew means, he doesn't know what's wrong with Francis, or why it's his fault, but he knows that Mathew genuinely means what he said, and that Francis was dying. Something is twisting inside him he remembers each of Matthew's words clearly, each of them smarting like a fresh burn._

_I hate Arthur!"_

_And he really sounded like he had. Mathew was always a good child growing up. He didn't cause trouble or throw tantrums, rarely asked for help, rarely yelled or got mad. Arthur's sure it his fault. If he was a better father, Mathew wouldn't feel like he had to quietly accept everything, or think he had to do everything by himself. If Arthur listened more, perhaps Mathew wouldn't have learned to bottle up his feelings until they explode, perhaps he'd know how to talk about his greviances instead of exploding in anger._

_"He's so absorbed in his stupid pride and can never admit when he's wrong, and always needs to get the upper hand!"_

_It stings because Arthur knows it's true. He knows he has difficulty admitting when he's wrong, it's always been his weakness, but he tries to pretend that's not the case. He doesn't want to see how his family is suffering because of him. He doesn't think he can bear the guilt if he admits it._

_"Thats why he and Papa split up! Because Arthur's head was so far up his derrière that he couldnt apologize! He's selfish and controlling and hateful!"_

_Maybe Mathew was right. Maybe it is his fault. It's been so long he's f_ _orgotten why they separated, but he knows it's because of the fights that never seemed to end. He'd blamed it on Francis, who loved to tease, he'd wanted to believe that it was Francis' fault, not his own insecurities._

_It's getting harder to pretend that's the case. He knows that most of the fights were probably his fault. It was him who saw flirting when Francis claimed friendliness, him who picked at everything Francis did to cover his own embarrassment, him who couldn't admit when he was wrong, and him who couldn't make himself believe that Francis truly loved him._

_Arthur thinks that Mathew is right, he is selfish and hateful. He wonders if the other children also blame him for the separation. He rings the doorbell again, trying to chase away his thoughts with irritation. On the third ring, the door swings open, and Arthur is surprised to see Gilbert's face before he remembers that Alfred had called him._

_Gilbert's face grows stiff when he sees Arthur._

_"What are you doing here?"_

_His tone and stance make his message clear. **"if you're just here to hurt him again, get lost."** Arthur feels somewhat lost in his chest. So even Gilbert blames him. But even so, Arthur won't back down. Francis is dying. Arthur needs to see him. _

_"I've come to see Francis."_

_Gilbert frowns, blocking the door with his arm._

_"You can't."_

_Arthur is suddenly angry. What right does Gilbert have to tell him if he can see his husband or not? Whether they live separately or not, they are still married, the last knot that Arthur refuses to cut. Arthur knows it's selfish, but he doesn't want to let go of Francis. A part of him is still waiting for Francis to come back to him, whispering soft words and apologies Arthur doesn't deserve, and they'll be okay again. Arthur doesn't want to admit that this time, that isn't happening. It's been too many years to cling onto that pointless dream._

_Truthfully, Arthur already knows Francis isn't coming back, but at this moment, he doesn't care. The man he loves is dying, and Arthur needs to be by his side, and no one, **no one** is going to stop him. _

_"What do you mean I can't see him! If he's dying then I have the right-"_

_He's furious, but he cuts himself off at the look of bewilderment on Gilbert's face._

_"Dying? What the hell? He's not dying! Why would you think that?"_

_Gilbert isn't the type of person that can lie, and it's obvious to Arthur that he's being honest, but Arthur knows that Mathew wasn't lying either, and he can't tell who's right, he doesn't know what's going on. He forgets his anger temporarily in the confusion, a rebuttal slipping from his lips._

_"But Mathew-"_

_There's a shifting noise behind him and Gilbert's eyes go to the people behind Arthur, and there's a tired realization that takes over his form, and a guilt in his eyes as he makes a sound of understanding. Arthur looks towards Mathew too, hoping to somehow make sense of the chaotic situation, but Mathew looks away. He still looks pale, and his face is blotched, and even from where he stands Arthur can see the slight tremor to Matthew's form. His son looks devestated, and Arthur can't believe that Francis is okay after seeing that. Gilbert seems to understand that Arthur won't give up and gives in tiredly._

_"Fine, you can come in, but you can't see Francis."_

_Arthur wants to protest, but Gilbert stops him with a glare, and there's something else in the cold glare, fear, that makes Arthur feel like he can't ask for more than this._

_"Tony and I just got him to sleep, and he needs his rest. If you can't behave, you can't come in_."

_The concept that Antonio and Gilbert have to put Francis to bed like a child is scary enough on its own, and Arthur feels an icy feeling as he tries not to picture what sort of awful thing had happened to Francis. The feeling gets worse when he asks Gilbert what's wrong, and Gilbert's short response is only "I'll get Toni." before he slips away._

_Arthur thinks he might go crazy with worry._


	20. "We'll be okay"

_Somehow it hurts. It hurts to see Mathew curled into his side, pale and shaking like a child. It hurts to hear that he called Lucille and Michelle but not Alfred. It hurts to hear about Francis' severe depression from the gentle voice of Antonio, basically a stranger to Alfred, instead of his family. It hurts because Alfred knows he could help. He wants to believe he can, but he wonders if that just his hero complex speaking._

_Alfred has always wanted to save people. He wants to be that shining hero in the movies who appears when someone is in danger, when they're alone and scared, and to bring them away from that place, to leave them happy and smiling like in the movies. Now, Alfred is feeling grossly inadequate. Maybe he's not good enough?_

_It makes sense the more he thinks about it. It wasn't just that Mathew hadn't told him, but both Lucille and Michelle too. Both of his younger sisters, even though he's closer with Michelle's, both of them should know how important this would be to Alfred. They should have known to at least tell him. But no one had. Not his siblings, not his Dad or Francis, he wonders if Antonio would have even told him if he'd had time._

_He feels guilty for feeling like this when he knows Francis is feeling worse than him. Alfred feels selfish and horrible for making it about him, and he thinks that maybe that's why no one trusted him enough to tell him. He wonders if he'd made a mistake coming here. Maybe Francis doesn't want to see him. Maybe he should have made Arthur go alone._

_There's a weight on his shoulder that's making him uncomfortable, and when he looks he sees that Mathew has fallen asleep, his swollen eyes shut and his breathing even and deep, his fingers still pinching just the slightest bit of fabric from Alfred's sweater. It's such a contrast to the Mathew from earlier, alone, afraid, and unable to breathe, and Alfred's fears get a little lighter. He feels like this is why he had to come. If not for Francis, for Mathew._

_He decides to worry about Francis, and Arthur, and him and everything tomorrow. After everything that's happened, Alfred is exhausted, and he just wants to go to bed. With Antonio's help he manages to get Mathew upstairs in bed, and into his pajamas, and Alfred changes into his own too._

_Antonio hesitates at the bedroom door._

_"Alfred, are you okay?"_

_Alfred looks up from his suitcase in shock. It's a ridiculous question to be asked to him, especially when he has Arthur and Mathew who are very obviously not alright, and Francis who is the worst of them all. It's bizzare that Alfred is the one Antonio is asking. Alfred answers bluntly and honestly._

_"Not at all."_

_Antonio actually seems to relax at this remark, and he attempts what Alfred thinks in an encouraging smile._

_"Good. No one should be in this situation. But we'll all get better Alfred. All of us."_

_It's a promise that Alfred doesn't think Antonio can make, but one he desperately wants to hear. He knows it's not something Antonio can promise, but accepts it anyways._

_"Yeah. We'll be okay."_

_This time, Alfred recognizes the look Antonio gives him, a mix of pride and regret. He doesn't have to be able to read minds to know the reason for each emotion, and he flushes a little under the praising look._

_"Well, I gotta take care of my family, y'know?"_

_Alfred tacks on, glancing at Matthew's sleeping form on the bed, and Antonio laughs in relief._

_"Si. We must take care of our family. Goodnight, Alfred."_

_Antonio dispears from the doorway, closing it behind him, and Alfred clambers into bed next to Mathew. Je doesn't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but he's a little less scared. His family needs him, whether or not they know it, and Alfred is going to be there for them. In order to do that, he needs a good night's rest._


	21. "Anything for my family"

_Lucille knows her brother is hiding something from her. She's used to it. Being a younger sibling means that she doesn't always get told all the details. Being an older sibling means she understands why. She knows that everything is not okay. When she sees Matthew's pale face in the hall outside her and Michelle's room, she knows something is worse. She pretends she doent notice as Mathew mimics Alfred's laid-back attitude as he makes an excuse about what's going on, but she doesn't believe him._

_Mathew looks scared, and that's the reason Lucille pretends she doesn't notice. Mathew doesn't want her to be scared too. Lucille doesn't want that either. She's a little sister. It means that her older siblings will want to protect her instead of rely on her. She knows she'd do the same for Michelle, which is why she won't tell her sister what happened when she wakes up tomorrow. Lucille doesn't want Michelle to be scared either._

_Lucille also knows being a younger sibling isn't just about being protected. Sometimes it's about fighting with your siblings, or pointing out when they make a mistake, sometimes, it's about just letting them hug you when your scared. It's true that sometimes it is about letting your older siblings focus on protecting you so they don't have time to be scared, but she also thinks it's about supporting your older siblings._

_That's why Lucille wakes Michelle up early to help make breakfast. She wants to make a feast, and she knows her brother's favorite foods, and she also knows Francis' favorite dishes to make. She has fond memories of learning how to make crepes and croissants from her Papa, remembering the right heat and how to fold them, the joy of eating her first breakfast she'd made herself with her family, and the smiles on their faces as they'd eaten it._

_Michelle lights up when she's finally away enough to hear Lucilles idea, and she's more than happy to help._ _Lucille is surprised to find out that Michelle never learned how to make crepes from her Papa, and though a part of her is proud that Francis only taught her, and other part is sad that Michelle didn't learn. Lucille feels a little guilty, as though she's robbing Michelle of a happy experience with Francis, but she still teaches Michelle how to make crepes in his place._

_Michelle beams once she gets the hang of it, hugging Lucille in excitement, and thought he guilt doesn't go away, it lessens. Lucille thinks that Francis will have to teach Michelle how to cook something else, but the experience of learning to make crepes is a happy memory with her older sister instead of her father now. Lucille can't help but be proud of herself for that._

_Not long after Michelle starts getting the hang of making crepes, Antonio appears in the kitchen and asks to help, and a half hour after that, Gilbert wanders in the kitchen, still in his pajamas, and is promptly kicked out for being a huge pain. It's fun, and they all laugh at Gilbert when Antonio swats him on the rear with a spatula, and after a moment, even Gilbert laughs. Lucille almost forgets why they're all there._

_When she brings the crepes to the table, an hand snatches one from the top, and she knows it's not Gilbert, who is sitting at the table already, and she thinks she knows who it is as she turns to scold her brother. She's surprised when she sees a different brother than expected._

_"Alfred?"_

_She can't believe her eyes. She doesn't know when Alfred arrived, and a part of her thinks she must be wrong, but Alfred grins in his trademark smile, his eyes twinkling deviously._

_"Not just me!"_

_It impossible, she knows as well as anyone else that Arthur and Francis haven't spoken in years there is no way, but..._

_"Arthur?"_

She asked the name is disbelief as Michelle jumps out of her chair and flings herself into his arms

_"Dad!"_

_It's impossible, or at the very least inprobable, but the man who had sworn he'd never set foot in the same house as Francis ever again was standing somewhat sheepishly in the doorway with an arm full of Michelle, looking a little unsure of himself._

_Lucille looked back towards Alfred and started to grin. She was worried because nothing they did seems to make Francis better and sometimes it feels like he can't even see them. She's not worried anymore. The calvary has arrived, and Lucille knows everything is only going to get better._

" _Thanks for coming, Alfred."_

 _She puts as much sincerity as she can muster into her words, and Alfred gives her a look that s_ _uggests he knows something she doesn't, but he only grins in return and answered lightly._

_"Anything for my family."_


	22. "What did you say to Dad?"

_Michelle knows something is wrong when she sees how Arthur looks at Mathew during breakfast. She figures out what it is when Mathew refuses to look at Arthur, keeping his head guiltily ducked down. Athew isn't the type to get angry often, but that only makes it worse when he does, and she can imagine what sort of things Mathew said to Arthur._

_She's not really sure what exactly happened, but she's knows that Mathew went away without telling her, only Lucille, and came back alone, and that Arthur and Alfred were there the next morning. She can guess what happed, and she's sure that Mathew went to yell at their dad, and that Arthur felt guilty and came after. She knows the kind of people they both are._

_When Mathew excuses himself to slip away to the kitchen, Michelle tries to ignore it, but her instincts tell her that her brother is upset, so she pushed out her chair to follow him. When she sees him washing his dishes at the sink, she hesitates, and thinks maybe t she was wrong. Then the soapy dish falls from his hands and Mathew sinks into a crouch, head to his knees, looking quite nauseated._

_Michelle moves timidly._

_"Matthew?'"_

_Mathew's lips are moving but no words are coming out, and he claps a wet hand over his mouth as though he's about to vomit. Michelle begins to feel afraid._

_"Mathew?"_

_She calls again, a little louder, but more concern in her voice. Mathew doesn't react, and it feels like he's in a soundproof bubble and Michelle's voice can't get through to him. On the third call, now full of worry, Antonio appears in the doorway, balancing a pile of dishes and looking concerned._

_"What's wrong, Ninâ?"_

_Michelle finds Antonio's sudden presence comforting, and communicates the issue while pointing to Mathew._

_"I think he's sick. He can't hear me."_

_Antonio's face goes a shade lighter and he kneels down next to Mathew, calling to him. A moment later he slips an arm under Matthew's and hauls him to his feet, murmuring words Michelle can't quite hear in Matthew's ears._

_The commotion draws attention, and Arthur and Gilvert shoot to their feet as Antonio hauls Mathew through the dinning area._

_"What happened?"_

_Arthur's voice is tense, and Michelle becomes certain something happened between the two. Antonio look like he wants to say something, then glances sideways at Michelle before his speaks._

_"He's a little sick."_

_Michelle knows that Antonio is hiding something from her, and it doesn't help that Alfred looks terrified as he vaults over a chair to support Matthew's other side. She doesn't even realize she's tailed them to the bathroom until Lucille grabs her arm and hauls her into her arms, forcibly covering her ears as Mathew starts to retch. Gilbert pushes his way into the Bathroom, and Michelle wonders if it's more than just an upsetting stomach that has her whole family in a mess._

_Lucille pulls her back to the table, where Arthur is already starting to clean up with almost mechanical movements, looking stiff and tight himself. Michelle is flustered, confused and a little scared, and she can tell she's not the only one._

_So she does what only the youngest could do._

_She slips out of Lucille grip and grabs Arthur around the waist, squeezing so hard he grunts._

_"Thanks for coming Dad."_

_She means the words with all her heart, but Arthur stiffens in her arms, and when use looks at his face, he looks somewhat guilty._

_"I should have come sooner."_

_He speaks in the same tone he always did after he started a meaningless fight with Francis, or says something he doesn't mean. Michelle holds him tighter, and Lucille cuts in._

_"It's enough that you're 'ere now."_

_Arthur doesn't look convinced, but awkwardly returns the hug Michelle gives him._

_When the freshly-showered Mathew reappears, his eyes are bright and there's a smile pulling at the edges of his lips, and Michelle thinks she was wrong, it was only an upset stomach, nothing more. She's glad, because now she's doesn't have to feel guilty when she pulls her older brother aside to scold him. Mathew accepts her scoldings about hiding his sickness sheepishly, and she accepts his apology with exasperation, but that isn't the only apology Michelle wants from Mathew._

_"What did you say to Dad?_

_Mathew flushes and looks away as he mumbles his response, and Michelle is filled with a righteous anger. She doesn't understand why her whole family is like that, not talking about their feelings until they explode and say something hurtful. Not Just Mathew, but Artur, Francis, even Alfred and Lucille. She just wants them to learn to communicate, but even she is struggling to find out how to communicate this to Mathew._

_Mathew misreads her expression and promises to fix it, somewhat awkwardly, heading for the garden where they both know Arthur will be. Michelle watches him go both hopefully and apprehensively._

_She hopes she didn't make things worse._

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	23. "Might be nice to become a family."

_"Didja hear about Francis?"_

_Kyle watches his brother James for a reaction, and receives it in the form of a bemused look and a shake of the head. James seems to sense there is something strange in the atmosphere, and waits for Kyle to elaborate._

_"Apparently he's got depression. It's bad."_

_James' face turns concerned, but he still looks like he's waiting for Kyle's point as he asks._

_"Is he... going to be alright?"_

_It's a polite question, asked with the same attitude one might asked about an aquantaince, but not family. It's not a question Kyle can answer, so he only shrugs. He's concerned too, but the same as James, he isn't close enough with Alfred's other father to be to be emotionally distraught. In fact, he's more puzzled about the next thing Alfred had said._

_"Alfred wants us to go visit, he said having family around would help."_

_James looks even more confused, and Kyle can tell his brother is searching his face to see if he's serious._

_"Family? But we..."_

_James trails off, but Kyle knows what he was going to say. **But we're not really his family.** It's true. It's not that either of them dislike Francis, or rather, when they meet him they're on good terms, but it's obvious there's a distance between him. To him, it's always felt like and "Us" and "Them". Alfred, James, Kyle, and Arthur as one family. Mathew, his little sisters, and Francis as the other. _

_Logically, of course, he knows they're related, and that Michelle and Mathew are their half-siblings, but emotionally, it doesn't feel that way. Kyle can count the amount of times he spent with Francis (that wasn't a family setting) on one hand, and times it was just him and not James even less. He thinks that it's just because Alfred can't feel that divide that he'd asked, or at least, he had thought that._

_"Actually, it was Mattie's idea. He really wants the whole family together."_

_Alfred had sounded both proud and embarrassed as he said that, and Kyle doesn't understand why Mathew thinks they'll be helpful. He can tell James is having the same questions. He watches James ponder for a moment, and when James looks up Kyle can tell he's made a decision._

_"Might be nice to become a family."_

_James suggests the option thoughtfully, watching Kyle's face for a reaction, and Kyle grins a little as he pictures it. Arthur and their sisters, Alfred and Mathew, Francis and them, all together, all speaking to each other and fighting and depending on each other. No more split meals and separate conversations between the French side and the English. Just them, as a family._

_Kyle's grin grows wider, and James smirks to match it as they both have an idea._

_"Let's go. Besides, I want to make Francis try Vegemite."_

_James looks somewhat malicious as he pictures the culinary snob trying the Australian spread, and Kyle is sure he looks somewhat similar. He pulls out his phone to text Alfred back._

_"Sure. We'll come soon."_

_Kyle's surprised to find he's looking forward to it._

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End file.
